


A Thousand Skins

by wisepuma23



Series: Merlin, Son of Wilderness [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Hunith, BAMF Igraine, BAMF Merlin, Bandits & Outlaws, Gen, Kelpies, Magic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shapeshifting, deer merlin, fox merlin, horse!Merlin, or it should be, rat merlin, yes that's a thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-02 15:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5253842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisepuma23/pseuds/wisepuma23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin decides to learn about shape-shifting, it's bound to be useful right? However there are some kinks that needs to be smoothed out first....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Why the Long Face?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m a _HORSE!_ ” Merlin neighed in horror.

Merlin had been sneaking furtive glances toward the end of his tome, the shapeshifting section in particular. He had been lost in thought all day over what animal he should transform into first, maybe something useful like a small animal to snoop on suspicious guests. But what if that was too hard to start with first? Maybe something closer to his body size, but then it wouldn’t be exactly so discrete.

It had been two weeks since the whole Dragon incident so Gaius was out in the lower town and Arthur was under the impression that he was also in the lower town as well. So that left Merlin to his own devices, and he waited carefully for his mentor to leave before taking out his tome and propping it up against a pile of stacked books on his table. He rushed around the infirmary gathering ingredients, almost vibrating with excitement in his exploration of his magic.

(The Horrifying Yuletide Incident didn’t count, that was a mistake through and through.)

He squinted at his tome, its pages yellowed with age, and some of the ink was smudged as if someone’s fingers accidentally brushed it when it was still wet. _Probably that was a ‘t” instead of a “d”, right?_ He shrugged, and threw his ingredients into his bowl, chanting over it, and felt his eyes go gold as it poofed into neon green smoke. Cats were well known for their laziness, and he would just catch a nap and turn back before Gaius came home! Easy peasy.

Merlin fainted immediately, and the last thing he saw was the table rushing up to meet him. He was gonna have one hell of a bruise, wasn’t he? Just great.

+++

Merlin groggily woke up to someone whacking up with a paper over his head (right on the new bruise) with gusto. He grumbled and tried to flail a hand over to the mysterious assailant to get them to stop attacking him, good gods! However, his hand motion was a bit odd, should it bend like that? Fingers, where was his fingers?!?! He fluttered his eyes open, and the first thing that popped into his head that he had really _really_ long eyelashes now. And everything in the world was colored oddly, like as if someone had painted it with only blue and yellow paint, with greys in between.

Gaius was glaring at him, no doubt had already figured out what his ward had done while he was gone. Merlin was tempted to point out to him like Gaius had to talk when his skin was a sickly yellow, but he sullenly acknowledged it was a side-effect of his new vision. Did cats really see like this? His neck felt really thick as he leaned into Gaius face, was he a fat cat? Please, he didn’t want to be a fat cat.

“A horse, Merlin? Really?” Gaius sighed, as Merlin stilled. A horse? A HORSE? _A HORSE??????_

“I’m a _HORSE_!” Merlin neighed in horror, bucking upwards from his laid down position by the overturned table. The spell was supposed to be for a cat! _NOT A HORSE!_ He moaned as he drooped his muzzle in defeat. Why did bad things happen to good people? He was a good person (mostly)! Was this revenge for stealing that dumpling from the cook the other day?

“Now stop moping, Merlin. And start working on that reversal spell before Arthur sees you.” Gaius admonished as he patted his flank, and started working on his new elixir for his sick patients in the lowertown. Merlin looked down at his hooves covered with silver hair, and stretched his neck to see his black pelt and mane, he looked cool actually. He moved his head again and pulled his tome from the floor with his long teeth and onto where it was before.

He mentally chanted the reversal spell, but nothing happened. He chanted again, twice, thrice, and four times before he gave a shrill whine to his mentor. Gaius gave another look to the ceiling, and prompted his ward to do it again, but this time he watched Merlin’s eyes carefully.

“Your eyes are still glowing gold, so you are still able to use your magic. Hm, did you use the correct ingredients?” Gaius asked, and the horse answered with a wide gesture of his head toward the vials that sat next to the tome. He examined all of them carefully, until he found the bloody sword so to speak.

“Merlin, I told you that these particular herbs were rotten! And I believe you might’ve mistaken equine for feline, why in fact this entire passage is ridden with mistakes and smudges. No wonder your magic mistook your intent for a horse rather than a cat.” Gaius shook his head in despair.

“I’m going to have to sneak you out of the castle, and perhaps you could stay in the Royal Stables for a day, you certainly would fit in, perhaps even surpass some of the horses there! Black Forest horses are very regal.” Gaius said proudly as he stood up and tugged gently on his mane to usher Merlin’s dejected form out of his chambers. It was around late afternoon in the castle, and Gaius was sure that his ward would know all of the servant passages that were wide enough for Merlin’s horse-form to sneak through.

All was silent except for the clop-clop of Merlin’s hooves in the dusty passage, and Gaius was just grateful that they hadn’t run into anyone yet. However, they finally reached the end of the passage, and they had to pass unnoticed across a public hall to get to the next unused servant’s passage. He held a hand up to Merlin behind him, and swatted his giant head away gently as he peeked through the crack of the door.

“There’s two guards on either side, but they both look away from the hall for at least five seconds when they turn around to patrol. Merlin, I think you’re going to have to continue on your own, I can’t distract both of them at once.” Gaius turned around to face Merlin and stared into his delicate eyes, “Please, don’t get into trouble.” He paddled the way back to his chambers, hoping that his ward wouldn’t do anything too stupid.

_Okay, so I have to time this! I can do this, it’s only five seconds, plenty of time right?_

Merlin did some awkward fumbles to turn his head sideways to look into the hall, and then carefully counted how long for the guards to walk the entrance of the hall before turning around. Once he felt confident about the timing, he pushed the door open with a nudge of his hoof, and walked as silent as he could across the hall.

A scream rang out, and the audible thump of a linen basket on the stone floor was all of the warning he got before the angry shouts of guard could be heard.

It was just not his day, was it?

He squealed anxiously as he started trotting away from the guards, narrowly avoiding their hands as he made his escape down the hall. The knowledge of the servant’s passage completely disappeared from his mind, as he galloped among bewildered servants and Knights that started chasing him as well. In only moments, he had a mob of servants, knights, and guards yelling for standbys _TO CATCH THAT HORSE!_

+++

“Sire?” Leon asked as he turned away from a squire that was panting heavily. The prince paused in his training of a new knight, and ran a hand through his damp hair, causing it to stick up everywhere.

“Yes, Leon? What is it?” Arthur asked as he took a long drink from his flask, and nodded toward the green knight to go rest in the barracks. The other Knights of the Round Table walked up to them, curious about Leon’s sheepish and almost _embarrassed_ look about him.

“Ah, I just got word that there is uhm…..” Leon did a strange thing with his face, “A horse loose in the castle, sire.”

“Why are you telling me this? Haven’t someone already caught it?” Arthur said in confusion as how to this required his official attention.

Leon coughed and the Knights’ interest only grew, “No they haven’t. It just seems to keep evading our tactics, and somehow managed to avoid all of our traps. The horse also have stolen sweets from the Kitchen, his appearance has caused numerous clean linen baskets to land on the dirty floor, and have made two groups of Knights knock themselves unconscious at the same time by making them run at each other. We did manage to corner it into the top floor of a guardpost, but it only jumped down to the roof below and got back inside through your open balcony. Your chambers are currently being put back into it’s usual impeccable state by the remaining servants that haven’t fainted at the sight of it.”

Prince Arthur looked around at the circle of his most trusted knights, “Ready to go on an adventure, men?” he said with a smirk.

All of them cheered, all too happy to skip a training session and do something that they would surely laugh about around a campfire in the years to come. However, Lancelot's cheer was quieter than others, with an almost thoughtful look before he shook his head in disbelief.

+++

Merlin was munching on an apple that was dropped by the latest fainted servant, he had lost the knights and he was currently resting in an unused guest room. Suddenly, he heard the all too familiar thump of multiple boots in the hallway outside. He winced as the apple gave an audible crunch in his teeth, so he stood up with a whinny and dropped it. Might as well face them head-on, and sure enough, the boots stopped in front of his door.

He gave a surprised neigh as he saw his friends being led by no other than Arthur, who also balked at the image of the gangly horse, but immediately set his face back into a stern stone. All of them yelled as they tried to catch him, but Merlin have played this game all day, so instead made his escape by jumping onto the bed next to him. His hooves almost got tangled in the sheets but it was well worth seeing their shocked faces.

He gave a mocking hee-haw as he galloped through the door in their surprised stupor. Merlin decided to continue his journey downwards, since he only had only three more stories to go until freedom. It was actually kind of fun, being chased by knights and knowing it was likely that they wouldn’t kill him. Maybe hurt him in frustration, but murder of a innocent horse? Never. And he’s secretly always wanted to play a prank on the entire castle, but this didn’t count since he didn’t mean for this to happen.

He snickered as he finally made it to the eating hall, as the split group of Knights on opposing sides gave a shout of triumph. Oh boy, he’s wondered what it would be like to get on the very very long tables that were organized in rows, it was usually occupied by Knights and a few occasional servants.

He jumped onto top of the tables, and waved his tail as he nickered in amusement as the knights tried to stop the horse from escaping. Merlin simply jumped over their heads onto the next table, and the knights stumbled over the stools as they tried to contain him. Ha, yeah right. He gave another happy whine as he saw Arthur turning that _lovely_ shade of red when he was getting particularly frustrated and was about to throw a toddler's tantrum. He merely jumped onto the next row, and ran the length of it, and sure enough, the knights followed in their haste. Merlin tried turning on a dime, but horses weren’t well known for their turning and it caused him to trip over his four left hooves and onto the ground with an indignant squeal.

He huffed as he felt strong hands holding him down and quickly loop a loose rope around his neck, and started bucking wildly in his struggle to get up. _No!_ The knights allowed him to get up, but they tugged harshly on his leash to get him to calm down. _No, I want to be free!_ His mind was briefly overshadowed by a primitive instinct to be wild and not to be tamed by mortal men, and he gave a loud whinny as he jumped on his back legs. He ignored the shouts of panic as he pulled away from the strong grips on his rope.

“Calm down! We aren’t trying to hurt you, shushhh.” Arthur hushed as he gave a hesitant rub on the horse’s flank, he had to calm down numerous frantic horses in past, it was part of his training as a skilled horse rider. The horse’s glassy eyes roamed around the room, wide in both anger and fear.

“Hey, you sure are a handsome breed, aren’t you? I’m sure I would’ve seen you in the Royal Stables. Come on, breathe, breathe. You’re tired, since you’ve been outsmarting the Prince and the best Knights in all of the kingdoms all day, after all.” Arthur petted his back soothingly, and subtly gestured toward his men to gently lead the stallion out of the eating hall. It gave another few heavy pants before it relented reluctantly as Arthur continued petting it.

“You’re certainly more obedient than my oaf of a manservant.” Arthur laughed, and his Knights cracked a smile when they fondly remembered Merlin’s insolence. Arthur gave a surprised squawk as the horse smacked him across the face with his silky black tail. He glared as the horse gave a quiet snicker. It was when they were finally outside in the courtyard, that he finally stood in front of the horse and stared into it’s amused blue eyes.

“Are you having a staring contest with that horse, princess? It isn’t the right color to be your white horse.” Gwaine guffawed but yelped as the horse blew his hair out of it’s perfect alignment.

The horse gave an affronted noise as Arthur checked it’s gums and circled it with a thoughtful gaze as he took in it’s graceful design and slightly too skinny knees, but the black mane was long and fluffy. It was definitely fit for what the prince had in mind.

“This horse isn’t half bad, actually.” Arthur chuckled as he stroked the horse in between it’s eyes good naturedly. It nickered in offense and it seemed to _roll its eyes_ , “Okay, fine, you look fit for a king.”

Arthur gave a sly grin, “Fit for a prince really. Would you like to be a royal’s horse? Free apples and sugar cubes all you want, and people waiting on you on hand and feet, wouldn’t you like that?”

The horse’s head shook in in surprise, and then gave a cross huff and pulled away in an obvious rejection of his offer.

Arthur sputtered, “Tough! I am your sovereign, and you have to do what I say! I was just asking out of politeness!!” and jabbed a finger in it’s unimpressed face as he ranted, this horse was too like Merlin that it was uncanny. He scowled as the horse gave a snobbish nicker, as if he was just amusing Arthur like he was a little child.

“Men, now as this horse is mine. I should name it, shouldn’t I?” Arthur grinned evilly, the horse’s antics shouldn’t go unpunished after all.

“George?” Lancelot suggested.

“Jester?” Elyan smiled.

“Onyx?” Percival pipped up.

“Dick.” Gwaine said with a leering grin, and was promptly spit on by the horse.

“Tiffany?” Leon asked teasingly.

“No men, I thought of a better name.” Arthur gave a beam as the horse glared, “Fish.”

“You are going to name a _horse_ , ‘Fish’?” Lancelot pointed out in disbelief, and bursted out in laughter loud enough for everyone in the castle to hear.

He stumbled closer to the horse and casually swung an arm around the horse’s neck as he continued to giggle until he cried, “Did you hear that, _Fish_?”

By the look ‘Fish’ was giving his laughing knight, Arthur was sure Lancelot should sleep with one eye open from now on, since the horse already had proved it knew a way to get into the castle and no doubt into the knight’s barracks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO APPARENTLY MY LAPTOP WAS MEAN YESTERDAY AND I COULDN'T POST IT
> 
> and then I realized how many editing mistakes I made and I was like "okay good thing I didn't post then"
> 
> aND I FORGOT MY LAPTOP CHARGER AT SCHOOL.........so I'm gonna be hanging out at the library all Thanksgiving break to catch up on my wordcount (and have a motivation quotes tab open nearby lol)
> 
> so I have two scenarios for the next chapter, do you want to see how horse!Merlin gets through the week OR do you want me to time-skip to Fish's end? Because I need some ideas on what shenanigans "Fish" gets up to since now he's Arthur's horse.
> 
> and the next update is gonna be on Monday!!! And I'm gonna go write those 3 drabbles now and actually if you have some ideas of what animals Merlin turns into, I would love to hear it (I have some ideas of my own but I could accept like one or two C:) 
> 
> kudos and comments would be AMAZING!!!!! I love hearing from you guys <3


	2. Sleeping with the Merlins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Fish and Arthur's adventures, they go on several quests together but ultimately, all quests must come to an end.

Later that day, Lancelot sat down next to Merlin, who was currently tied to a tree and kept examining his new iron shoes on his hooves with a curious gaze. Arthur was sulking by the campfire, annoyed with his new horse for neighing loudly as it could to scare the game away.

“You know, Merlin, if you keep this up,” Lancelot then leaned closer and whispered, “Arthur will start to think that your father was a horse.”

Merlin snorted, and Lancelot gave a smile as he felt all too familiar tendrils of magic soothing his aches away from the long day of hunting and running after a runaway horse. Lancelot wondered if this would become such a common occurrence that he would recognize Merlin in any form he took, from a rat to a bear, or even a formless blob.

“Let me guess, shapeshifting gone wrong? I thought you were trying to turn into a cat, last time that you told me.” Lancelot huffed fondly as he leaned onto Merlin’s flank, and stared into the canopy above.

Merlin lowered his head until it rested on his folded hooves, and gave a pitiful whine in agreement.

“You know what makes all of this funny?” Lancelot gave an involuntary chuckle, “As human, you’re called a merlin--a bird. However, now as a horse, you’re called a fish. Both of your names are animals that you are completely _aren’t_.” Lancelot let a few more laughs escape as he saw Merlin’s unmistakable look of annoyance that surprisingly translated well into Merlin’s new face.

“You should count your blessings that Gwaine didn’t get to name you, all of us would’ve died of mortification if we lost you and Arthur had to yell your name out for everyone to hear. However, Fish is only slightly better, we’ll be directed to trading ports instead of brothels.” Lancelot rambled absently as he awkwardly patted Merlin’s velvety hide.

All of the knights shot up as they heard the unmistakable clop-clops of a rider rushing toward their camp. Merlin and Lancelot stood up, the knights unsheathed their swords in wariness as Merlin silently pulled back to hide among the other, more indifferent, horses if he needed to intervene.

“Prince Arthur! A message from Camelot, a order from the King.” the rider shouted as he pulled his uneasy horse to a stop. The Knights put their swords away as Merlin’s ears perked up as the rider caught his breath.

“What is it, good knight?” Arthur asked as he shifted closer to the rider, and the man sat taller in his seat with a hint of pride.

“The King received word that his scouts finally found the hub of bandit activity in the Valley of Fallen Kings. It’s highly infested with men of ill repute and the King wants you to take care of them, and the international crime ring throughout all of the Kingdoms would take many years to recover if they lost their Camelot base of operations. The King urges you to ride with posthaste, for many high ranking men are convening there tomorrow.” the rider bowed in his saddle and waited for Prince Arthur’s response.

The prince bowed his head minutely in agreement and turned to his Knights, “We ride immediately, the Valley of the Fallen Kings would take all afternoon and early morning.” The Knights immediately set to work to clean up their supplies and weapons and pack them back onto their horses. The messenger turned around to ride back to Camelot immediately, his horse’s hooves become distant within minutes before it disappeared altogether.

“Sire, what about Merlin?” Percival asked tentatively as he firmly tied his bedroll to his horse.

“It’s a nest of snakes that we’re going to, it’s best that he stays at Camelot. I could hardly plan an attack if all I hear is his knees knocking together so hard that I can’t think.” Arthur jested as he undid the knots on Merlin’s bridle, but his voice wavered in his conviction.

_Good thing that I’m still coming anyway. Besides, if I wasn’t a horse, I would still find a way to come with you, prat._

Merlin nickered in approval as he nudged Arthur’s arm good naturedly. It was still a very weird and awkward experience to have Arthur basically riding piggy-back on him. He would loathe the day if he was ever forced to confess that one time he was Arthur’s horse. Hopefully in the distant future when they were both old and grey. And had an embarrassing name like Fish, gods, Arthur would never let it go would he?

+++

Arthur held up a hand to halt his Knights, and gestured for all of them to dismount silently in the cover of the forestline. They crouched close to the ground as they eyed the abandoned barn, it was a particularly large one that had several buildings together. There was no mistaking the crowds of grimy men that walked in and out of it were bandits, and men that did much worse than just petty robbery. They would have to wait until nightfall to light the barn on fire then, hopefully they wouldn’t have many sentries. Bandits were bandits, after all, not skilled military strategists.

However, a ruckus stirred among them, there were two new arrivals that rode in with their faces covered with black capes, sullied from a long travel. Arthur didn’t need to glance at his men to know they were also startled that one of men, more scarred and older than others, held a hand to the riders with clear respect. The riders were helped down, and one stumbled but the other mysterious rider quickly supported them. They took off their hoods with a graceful motion, one was so familiar that Arthur’s heart clenched, he’s seen that motion over and over again for so many years.

Morgana had a worried arm around Morgause's waist as they walked into the barn as well, and Arthur looked away from how clear that simple act held so much care in it. He looked into his grim faced men, and for some strange reason, his new horse was staring intently at him as well.

“This changes things,” Arthur said dully, “We need a new plan.”

+++

“I know that you think I’m reckless, but this is new even for me, princess.” Gwaine whispered harshly as they stripped the unconscious bandits below them. He huffed angrily as Arthur pointedly ignored him as he put on a dirty cloak with faint bloodstains and mud that was slightly big on him.

“If this is so risky, then you have my every permission to give us a better idea, Gwaine.” Arthur growled as he took off the numerous packs off of Fish, and only left a mottled blanket from one of the bandit’s packs on his back. All of them would have to blend in if this plan was to work, and a very poor bandit wouldn’t have a luxurious saddle.

Gwaine rolled his eyes as he pulled his plain hood over his head, obscuring his muddy features, bandits didn’t have clean faces either. Lancelot gave a reassuring grin as he finished with his own stolen outfit. Then, Leon walked up to Arthur, and pointed toward to the rest of the horses tied to a grove of trees much farther back, where no bandits would steal them. Only Fish was regal enough to the point of absurdity that the brutes would simply assume that Arthur was going to sell him.

“You know the plan, men?” Arthur asked a final time as he held onto Fish’s bridle tightly so that the horse was next to him.

“Yes, we go in groups of twos and threes and group together in the barn. You and Leon act as if you are bartering for a price. But Lancelot and Gwaine would be eavesdropping on Morgana and her sister. The rest of us would remain nearby.” Elyan recited with a grin, his prince had been going over the plan until it had been hammered into their heads.

Arthur sighed, and turned around to walk out into the open from the forest line, and kept his face bowed with Fish trotting next to him. He kept his relief in as the bandits didn’t give him another look, but did linger on his horse. Arthur’s hold on the reins tightened, he wouldn’t actually sell Fish, the horse had grown on him now.

“That’s a mighty fine looking horse there, fellow.” a man drawled and then spat on the ground, Arthur stilled. They were only a few feet away from the barn’s entrance, but now he had to deal with this cretin.

“Someone else wants it, so look elsewhere.” Arthur said coldly, his voice dropped as low it could go in an attempt to mask his trepidation.

“I’ll match ye price, where did ya get it? Some sort of Lord? I’m sure you can talk to me of how you got this horsie over a tankard of ale.” the man guffawed, and Arthur only noticed how unnaturally pink his cheeks were.

“It’s none of your business, drunkard. You spent all your coin on the mead, most likely.” Arthur growled as he walked past him, and put a hand on his dagger at his hip, hidden by his cloak.

Fish gave a frightened whinny, eyes wide in shock as he tried to turn around. Arthur turned in place, and gave a furious look as the man twirled drunkenly with a bloody knife, and a shallow cut on Fish’s flank could be seen.

“My mistake.” the man hiccuped with a leering grin, and stumbled off into the night, knife cutting the air in front of him, making people part before him or lest they get a similar cut. Arthur huffed angrily, and turned back around to walk into the barn. No doubt the drunk man thought that the cut would lower the price of his fake sell.

The airy barn was lit with hanging lanterns among the tall rafters above. It had a very large and open space, with the stables to the right and a tavern to the left, he could tell by the smell and laughter alone. Ahead, there were multiple short walls that hid away most of the barn’s more secretive occupants, people huddled around tables with their heads tilted in conspiracy. They were most likely the different factions of bandits from all over, doing whatever they do, perhaps planning to bring more suffering into the world.

Arthur stood in a corner by the entrance of the stables, and took the quick respite to examine Fish’s wound. He wiped the blood away with a part of his sleeve that was the least grimy over it, but now it looked fine since it was already almost healed.

“How much for ye horse?” a voice asked in a hushed tone from behind him, and Arthur turned around to reject it but grinned when he saw Leon’s anxious face. 

“Two bronze. He’s very surly and grumpy. He would steal your apples in the morning if you ate too close. Not worth much, trust me.” Arthur said in a very serious tone, trying to fight a smile from his features. Fish huffed and nickered affronted, and Leon gave a suffering sigh.

“Three silver.” Leon argued determinedly as if Arthur set the price higher, and Arthur acted his part of offence.

“Four gold!” Arthur said a little louder, as he finally saw Lancelot and Gwaine’s familiar cloaks toward the secretive part of the barn. Elyan and Percival could now be seen at the tavern side, sitting at a table with untouched tankards of ale.

Arthur and Leon kept up their arguing to a minimum, only a few shouted words here and there. The real violent arguing would be a distraction mechanism if Lancelot and Gwaine were ever discovered. Hopefully they wouldn’t need it.

The plan was going smoothly but the tide of good luck quickly changed about half an hour in. Gwaine had been slowly sneaking himself closer and closer to more shadowed tables, and one in particular that held two women. Arthur was glad that light intensity was so low, or otherwise the outlaws would see his sweat beading down his brow like a sinner in church. He could see out of the corner of his eyes that Lancelot was subtly trying to warn Gwaine of his riskiness, but Gwaine simply nodded and continued.

“Thirteen gold! Because why the heelll not?” a familiar voice slurred, and both Leon and Arthur’s attention was captured by the drunk man from earlier. Arthur tried to look around the man’s unwashed head, but the man simply moved as well and he had to stop himself from screaming in frustration.

“No thank you.” Arthur growled.

“Why? You too good for me? You’re a lowly petty horse rustler like me!” the man snarled, “I used to steal from Kings! Trust me, _boy_ , you are lower than the _shit_ on me boots!” the man yelled, and the two Knights looked warily at the sudden gain of attention from nearby men who were wondering whether to bet for a fight. Fish neighed and nudged Arthur, but the prince just patted the horse to calm down.

“Fifteen gold!” Leon said a little louder to be heard over the man’s ranting. Arthur grumbled, but said the next bid a bit higher as was expected. Arthur patted Fish, who started knocking his head a bit more firmly against Arthur’s, likely the horse was anxious and thinking he was actually gonna be sold. Arthur murmured reassurances to the contrary.

“You know wut?” the man’s beady eyes squinted as he looked at Arthur up and down in a uneasy calculating way.

“What?” Arthur asked, trying to ignore Fish’s headbutting, becoming more insistent.

“Me thinks it would be far cheaper to use the five finger discount.” the man stretched his fat lips into a wide grin as he took out a knife. Their audience’s interest suddenly shot up, and Arthur knew that they were placing bets on them now most likely. Fish neighed loudly and jumped on his back two feet, his front hooves aimed high to the ceiling. All three men shouted and Arthur was forced to let of Fish’s reins. He gaped as he watched his horse gallop to the other side of the barn in a streak of black and his silver hooves flying like the wind. Arthur finally noticed Elyan and Percival was over there too, faces drained of color as they stood outside a crowded semicircle.

“Fish!!” Arthur yelled as he ran over there too, with Leon close behind on his heels. Fish blundered through the crowd and blew heavily through his nose, hooves wide apart in stance. He gave an angry whinny, and stomped in place. Arthur finally elbowed his way to the front, and saw immediately what made Fish so angry.

“Where is Arthur?” Morgana hissed as she held Lancelot up by the neck, and Gwaine nearby unconscious on the ground with Fish standing over his body protectively.

“Not here.” Lancelot coughed out through the stranglehold, and Arthur was sure that if Lancelot wasn’t mostly sitting on the ground, he would be.

Fish pawed the ground, his ears pinned back in a clear sign of aggression that even Morgana, skilled horse rider as she is, understood.

Lancelot grunted as Morgana let him go from her magic, and studied the regal horse before her.

“Are you Arthur’s horse? You certainly look like one of finer standing, and with these two buffoons here. It’s very likely.” Morgana grinned as she walked closer to the horse, but flinched back as the horse tried to bite her.

Morgana turned to the crowd, “Prince Arthur of Camelot! Where are you, I know you’re here. It’s not like you to cower behind a mask, so face me!” she screeched as she flicked a hand and whispered toward Lancelot, and his face immediately scrunched in pain.

Arthur suddenly felt the firm grips of his Knights holding him back, murmuring things about logic and how it wouldn’t be _wise_ to reveal himself now. However, Fish didn’t have that same luxury and lunged at Morgana without warning, and Arthur would’ve sworn that his eyes were almost red with fury.

Morgana gasped in fright, and her hold on Lancelot immediately relaxed as she fell back on her haunches onto the dusty wooden floor of the barn. Fish beat his hooves in front of her and snorted in warning, and turned around to the two fallen men. Fish leaned down and bit Lancelot’s clothes and dragged him closer to the crowd, and pushed Lancelot into Percival’s waiting arms. He went back and tilted his entire body carefully to get under Gwaine’s limp form and onto his back. Fish walked back to the crowd with Gwaine hanging over his back, and the shocked crowd parted for him. Arthur’s gaze lingered on Fish as the horse trotted quietly to outside of the barn, and the whole barn was silent after that strange scene.

“Fine then, we’ll do this the hard way. _Alw Arthur Pendragon i mi_!” Morgana commanded with a sweep of her arms toward the crowd with a flick of golden eyes. Arthur suddenly felt a subtle tug in his gut as if a rope was tied there. He grunted as the rope pulled him harshly forward against his own will. His men could do nothing as Arthur stumbled into the open before Morgana’s smirking face.

“Hello Morgana.” Arthur greeted as he stared up at his half-sister with a tense jaw, she had made clear of her loyalties a long time ago.

“Nice to see you again, _brother_.” Morgana spat, and she grinned as his Knights willingly sat next to their prince, and even halfway to passing out, Lancelot was propped up against Percival.

“What are you planning, Morgana? Alliances with men of ill repute never bring good news, to Camelot especially.” Arthur growled.

“Why don’t you ask your commoner Knight over here? He was of course eavesdropping on me and my sister.” Morgana asked with a tilt to Lancelot, who blinked rapidly in confusion, eyes going a little unfocused.

“You’re going somewhere, and looking for something.” Lancelot explained with a slight slur, and Arthur wanted to roll his eyes at how vague it was. Perhaps Gwaine knew more, he did manage to get closer than Lancelot after all.

Lancelot’s eye widened, “The Lagoon---” but was cut off with a sharp gesture from Morgana, and Lancelot grasped at his neck weakly, his mouth worked open and close but no sound came out.

“You know I could kill you right here and now, and I don’t have to wait almost a year for my plans. It would be so much easier.” Morgana drawled as she stepped closer to Arthur’s forced kneeling position, “Your citizens would welcome me, cause the alternative is our mad father and history has never talked favorably of insane kings. I’ll bring magic back to the Kingdom, and peace for my kind will finally be achieved.” Morgana explained with a wistful look on her face as she brought out her dagger from her belt.

“I gave you that dagger, Morgana, don’t you remember that? What happened to you, I remember you’d never agree with using violence to bring about peace,” Arthur gulped, “ because Uther did the same thing. You’re very much like him.”

Morgana’s face transformed into one of unrecognizable fury, “I am _NOTHING_ like him! It’s you who are like him, you spew bigotry and hate about my kind, and I felt fear everyday in Camelot when I woke up and when I went to sleep. You’re one of the people who made me like this! Now I’ll kill you, brother.” Morgana raised the dagger as she stepped closer, but she was still three or four feet away.

“Will you?” Arthur asked quietly with vulnerable honesty, “You’ll murder your flesh and blood, despite that we grew up together.” Arthur gave a hollow laugh, “Remember that time you played a prank on the cook because she wouldn’t give you dumplings and I was blamed for it and I had to walk around the palace with a _terrible_ haircut because the only way to appease the cook was for her to practice her haircutting skills? On _me_. I didn’t talk to you for a week. I retaliated by staining your forehead with a big bright pink spot that didn’t go away for two days, and you didn’t know why your suitors were running away from you the entire time.”

Morgana’s dagger trembled minutely, and Arthur’s heart leaped into his throat. Did he finally get through to her? Thoughts of talking to the council of appealing for a pardon for her crimes, and perhaps an official reexamination of the laws that banned magic, he was Regent after all. He did repeal the laws on the nobility requirement to be a Camelot Knight, there were surely other laws that were unfair to his citizens or affected their life negatively. Merlin certainly complained loudly about how farmers in Camelot didn’t plant crops side by side or rotate crop fields because it went against their religious teachings or some other stuff.

Morgana screamed as a lamp crashed in front of her, and everyone’s gaze immediately looked up to the rafters. Arthur startled as he heard thumps on the roof, and a black shadow could be seen through the cracks of the wood. The black shadow moved gracefully and it’s thumps could be heard clearly as it jumped heavily in place, causing the lamps to rattle on its precarious nails. Men screamed as several more lamps jumped off their nails, and set fire to the wayward hay and wooden floor alight. Morgana’s hold on him and his Knights suddenly fell away, and Arthur’s head swiveled among the fleeing crowd to find his half-sister. Arthur sighed heavily as he saw two shadows escaping through the backdoor of the barn, Morgana never once looking back.

More lamps fell and within moments the barn was burning like a bonfire, and his Knights were urging people to flee. Arthur shook himself out his stupor and ran away with his men, he cursed as rafters began falling onto them. They started coughing with the heavy smoke in the large room, and the fire was everywhere they turned. They finally made it outside into the sweet night air, and all of them bent over with their hands on their knees and took in large breaths. They stumbled a little closer to the forest line, and they could see Gwaine propped carefully against a tree, still conked out.

All of them turned around to see the flames licking the barn from within, climbing high into the inky night. Leon went ahead and came back with all of their horses, and all of them mounted their respective horses (Gwaine and Lancelot---who finally passed out--- was tied over theirs). However, Arthur looked around and he noticed that Fish was missing in the chaotic scene around them.

“Where’s my horse, Fish?” he asked Leon, but his elder Knight just shrugged in apology. All of them startled as they heard a loud neigh echo through the night, and they turned back to the burning barn. They all gasped (including the horses) as they finally made out the figure of a horse on the roof of the barn, which was rapidly disintegrating under his hooves. Fish gave a proud neigh and striked a pose like the noble marble statues of horses did in Camelot.

They could pinpoint the exact moment in which the thought of _how to get down_ hit the horse, and gave an uneasy nicker at the ground far below. Then it saw a tree nearby, and backed up as it eyed the distance. It gave an undignified squeal as part of the roof gave under one of its hooves, which drilled home the decreasing lifespan of the structure beneath. It galloped on the roof and jumped toward the tree, but it gave a strange face as it was falling toward the branches. As if it didn’t account for something, and that was clearly on how to _hold on_ to the thin branches. Fish fell through the numerous branches of the tree with loud squeals and screams as it flailed wildly with its legs and finally landed on the ground on its back and the hooves straight in the air. It slowly fell on its side with a morose grunt.

Percival leaned his body down from his mount slowly, “There’s something very wrong with that horse.”

Leon nodded as they watched Fish nicker loudly as if reassuring them that it was fine, “Perhaps it's mentally afflicted.”

Fish jumped up and galloped toward the group of Knights with glee obvious on its features and patted Arthur heavily with the underside of its jaw.

“Severely.” Arthur said in deadpan as he packed his supplies and bed-roll onto his horse. Was he cursed with idiotic servants, no matter their species? They took one last look at the barn, and it collapsed onto itself in a fiery blaze. Then, all of them trotted away into the dark forest, Gwaine and Lancelot would need to be looked over further away from here. And perhaps they would make it back to Camelot before tomorrow’s sunset.

Arthur leaned down to one of Fish’s abnormally large ears, “How the **_hell_** did you get on the roof?” he whispered incredulously.

Fish turned his head to look at Arthur with its blue eyes, strangely familiar, and gave a secretive nicker like as if it was saying _Like as if I would tell you, prat_. Arthur was surely that last part was his mind playing tricks on him, maybe he was missing Merlin more than he would admit and now he was using a horse as a fill in. It was pathetic, that’s what it was.

“Look at the trail, Fish. Or otherwise you would run into a tree, even if it’s five metres from the path. You’re as idiotic as my manservant, but definitely less so than him. Oi, don’t look at me like that, when you meet him you would agree. You have my permission to spit on him.” Arthur gave a smile as if he was bestowing a great honor, but glowered seconds later as he wiped a hand over his cheek where his horse spat on him. Fish stretched his lips over his teeth, the closest thing to a smile that a horse could give.

“Oh, wipe that stupid look off from your face, stop looking so pleased.” he growled, and sighed heavily in his head as he realized that he was bantering with a _horse_ of all things. Horses don’t even talk! This was surely a new low for the prince.

A giggle echoed through the quiet forest air, and he looked immediately at his Knights, glad for the early morning darkness or otherwise they would see his reddening cheeks. He didn’t realize that his whispers had became louder, and he could see even _Leon_ was tense with held in laughter. His cheeks darkened even further as he realized Gwaine must’ve woke up about a mile back because his white teeth was glinting in the faint moonlight. Fish nickered from below him, and Arthur’s reaction was instant.

“Shut _up_.” Arthur snapped in a voice usually reserved for Merlin, and Fish gave an offended huff and gave Arthur a _look_.

“I’m the prince of Camelot and I don’t need a _look_ from a bloody horse!” Arthur hissed, but cringed as several more muffled giggles echoed through the air.

Arthur sighed, this was going to be a _long_ ride.

+++

It was when they finally saw the turrets of Camelot’s white towers in the distance that they came across the same messenger from earlier. The Knight jumped up from his post and walked up to the prince with a relieved face, but then straightened in place. Arthur nodded his head minutely for the man to speak.

“Have you completed your mission, Prince Arthur?” the Knight asked.

“Yes, tell my Father that we came across the Lady Morgana but she escaped without capture. However we now have intel, courtesy of Sir Gwaine, that she intends to travel to a lagoon somewhere in between Lot and Alined’s kingdom. She and Morgause are seeking something from a magical creature, we aren’t sure what.”

The Knight seemed to be processing this information and then spoke up again with the most dignity he could muster, “The King had come across this information as well, but with not so much detail; only that a magical creature of dangerous knowledge could not be allowed to live, in somewhere Alined and Lot’s borders as well. The King arranged for me to resupply your group with food and other items that I have here. You must ride immediately, for you must get there before Camelot’s enemies reach the creature before we do.” the Knight gestured to his heavily packed horse and a second horse as well.

“But my men need to rest! Sir Lancelot and Sir Gwaine need to be looked at by our court physician.” Arthur shouted angrily, and his horse had shuffled closer to the Knight, causing Arthur to tower even more above him.

“There are fresh medical supplies in the bags sire. Take up any grievances that you have with the King when you come back. Here is an official letter with the royal seal, written personally by his Majesty, for if you ever come across Alined or Lot’s men to prove that you are not trespassing on their land and cause an international war overnight.” the Knight said dutifully and handed over a scroll tied in a crisp red ribbon, held together by a familiar red wax seal.

“Fine, tell the King that we are to have a meeting as soon we get back. At least tell Merlin to meet us here, he surely can be here within half an hour. He has medical training and can look after Lancelot and Gwaine.” Arthur growled as he gesture absently toward the rest of his men to unpack their empty supplies and repack with the replenished ones.

“Ah, _Merlin_.” the Knight finally gave an uneasy shuffle in place, his impeccable stance finally cracking.

“Yes, Merlin, my manservant.” Arthur said as he narrowed his eyes at the new Knight, now looking at the forest floor. His horse gave a curious nicker, no doubt Fish recognized the name, this horse was smarter than he looked.

“Merlin, had…... a nasty fall down the physician's stairs in his haste to catch up with you when he got the news that you left without him. He’s been bed-ridden the past few days, nobody’s been allowed to visit him. The Knights and servants alike are terribly upset, even the cooks had left get well soups and the Knights have left bundles of herbs since Merlin usually does it. Even though Gaius told us it's just grass, the thought still counts right? There’s rumors that Merlin is,” the Knight’s voice dropped to a whisper, “ _dying_.” but spoke up loudly, “But Gaius has been telling us that’s complete rubbish. He’s been getting better and he’ll back to normal around the time that you’ll come back from your mission.” the Knight rambled, no longer the blank dutiful Knight from before.

All of the Knights had the exact same stricken face of horror, and as one, looked back at the white walls of Camelot of where their friend was _suffering_. They whimpered as they realized they couldn’t be at their friend’s bedside, Gaius’ rule of not disturbing the patients be damned. Arthur looked down at his horse, who had his head hung so low that it almost touched the ground, in mourning likely.

“M-Merlin will be fine.” Arthur said weakly to Fish as he patted his mane absently, “You’ll still meet him and you’ll steal his apples and perhaps he’ll even banter with you too. Merlin will definitely love you, heck he’ll probably teach you how to say prat in horse language, I don’t know how but he’ll do it.”

“He’s stubborn like that.” Arthur’s voice threatened to crack, but a prince’s duty outweighed a manservant, most certainly. His grip tightened on his reins, but he couldn’t even believe that thought. Merlin will be fine, he’s always is. His Knights had finally finished packing, and it would seem that they would have to make it without either Merlin and Gaius to help them. Hopefully Lancelot and Gwaine would be fine without their expertise, surely.

“We’ll look after him, sir.” the Knight nodded reassuringly as he mounted his horse and turned to gallop back to Camelot. Arthur stared at him, _you better_ , and turned around and rode off in the direction of Lot and Alined’s borders before his heart won over his head. Arthur fought the urge to look back at Camelot, he feared that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to take another step.

+++

The lagoon was dreary and the sun rarely peeked through the dark grey clouds that rolled through the sky in a perpetual warning of rain. It was covered in squelching mud that sucked in hooves and the land was flat in all directions. Even the trees, rare as they were in this land, were hunched over and its long branches hung limply until it brushed the moist ground. It was depressing is what it was, Merlin huffed irritably.

Arthur and his Knights have been moping for the entire trip, even though Lancelot and himself had tried to cheer their friends up, it didn’t work. Merlin was touched, really, but this was annoying. Merlin rolled his eyes as Gwaine gave another miserable sigh and looked back in the direction of Camelot.

He wished that they would bounce back and pull themselves together. They weren’t sure what the magical creature was and it could be unfriendly. If according to their luck, it’ll have a taste for human flesh. Like they usually did. So, Merlin had been preparing them for the foreseened attack, since they needed to be at their best. When the Knights went to sleep on the first night of their new mission, he healed both of Gwaine and Lancelot’s head injuries. Since then, he’s been untying his knot to whatever nearby tree and walking over to each Knight and healing their aches and pains every night. Merlin has also renewed his enchantments on their armor, just some simple protective blessings so they wouldn’t easily fall in battle if Merlin was preoccupied with keeping the prat alive.

Suddenly, in the mist ahead, there was an indistinguishable shadow, but it certainly wasn’t human. Arthur and his Knights tensed, and the prince held his fist up silently for his men to halt. Merlin’s ears twitched, and tentatively pushed his magic toward the strange beast obscured by the thick fog. Merlin’s nose sniffed, it smelled strongly of seaweed and salt, and his magic reported that it was definitely was of ancient magic.

The league of Knights flinched as singing permeated the air, high and haunting in the normal quiet of the marsh. Merlin’s ears flattened, and his mind ran through the different aqua creatures that he’s read about in his numerous late research sessions. Whatever it was, he had a very bad feeling about this. The shadow sharpened into one of a horse, but it was bigger than any horse he’s seen. Arthur urged Merlin forward with a subtle kick to his flank, and Merlin had to hold himself from growling in indignation, but relented reluctantly.

“Hark! Who goes there?” Arthur asked as Merlin trotted closer despite the fog becoming thicker and thicker until water droplets trembled on Merlin’s long eyelashes. The singing only became higher and more seductive, and the Knights could only give in to their curiosity and kept going. Until the fog finally parted and they could finally see the beast before them clear as day.

The horse, if you could even call it that, was pure white with a green tinge and its grey mane was sopping wet and its back was at least half of a normal horse’s back longer than usual. The horse’s eyes were glassy and had the same strange tinge of muddled lake water, and it was much taller than any of the horses. It _towered_ over them, even Merlin’s unusual height was dwarfed by it by at least two hand spans.

The Knights dismounted and their swords _shinged_ as they pulled it out of their sheathes, and looked at it warily. Merlin gave a warning nicker as Arthur walked closer to it, he had finally realized what it was. It was a _Kelpie_ , a water horse that normally resided near large bodies of water but could be anywhere with water really. Older boys in his village had warned of a large water horse that laid enticingly in wait for little boys to climb onto its back, or even touch it really. The older boys told of a story where nine children had climbed onto it’s back and one younger boy had only put just a finger on it, and quickly found that it couldn’t escape it’s sticky skin. The horse had swam to the depths of the nearby lake and the young boy was only one to escape by cutting off his finger. The other children had drowned and only one entrails had washed up ashore a week later.

The kelpie sang again, and Merlin worriedly saw the Knights’ movements becoming sluggish and started walking toward it in a trance. The Kelpie was strangely only showing it’s right side, but Merlin thought it was an unimportant detail. This was most definitely not good, and he could see his fellow horses also gave uneasy nickers toward their entranced owners. However, as the other horses slowly back up, Merlin got closer. This must surely be the magical creature that Morgana and Morgause was seeking out, but did kelpies talk? He wasn’t sure and how would he talk to it before it ate his friends?

_Kelpie, please stop!_

He pushed a tendril of mind-speak toward the creature, and he could tell the kelpie’s mind startled even though the exterior didn’t react. The singing came to an abrupt halt and the Knights blinked in confusion before they remembered what they came for. Lancelot shot a grateful look toward Merlin, and they stared at the beast. Merlin’s spine crawled as he realized the kelpie’s hooves were reversed from a normal horse’s hooves.

“You have come seeking knowledge, young Pendragon. Climb on my flank and I shall tell you.” a high and silky voice echoed through the air, and Merlin neighed loudly to voice his accusation at the blatant trickery.

“I do not trust magic, foul creature. And you are wrong, I have come seeking a death, not knowledge. Your death in particular.” Arthur growled as he pulled his sword higher at the kelpie with firm determination lacing his words.

The voice chuckled, deep and throaty, it seemed to swing between volume of voices which was disconcerting to everyone present.

“A death you shall receive.” and Merlin’s stomach pitched to the ground in stark horror, no, he would never allow any of his friends to die. He would rather reveal himself as a magical horse than let them die at this creature’s hand…..er hoof.

“No more vague insinuations, vile beast, if you so insist that we’ve come seeking knowledge than tell us!” Gwaine shouted with a sword to punctuate his frustration. The kelpie shifted in place and shook its mane, causing entrails and other bloody scraps of flesh to fall from the tangled mess. The Knights all went a bit green, and suddenly understood all too well their fate if they got too close to it.

“Very well. Your future is as both as nebulous as this fog but clear as a bell. Liars, deceit, a grand sword, and the silent war that rages beneath your attention. You’ll meet a man that is a Knight in spirit, one drenched in blood and scars, and both tame as a deer but dangerous as a lion.” the Kelpie turned around to face the Knights head on, and it’s left side revealed a bare skeleton with moss and rot on the inside of its flesh and its great maw opened to say the next words, razor sharp teeth lining it, “A man that is no longer a man, a feral beast with magic that festers beneath, more pure and unrefined than mine. It rivals even the most magical of creatures, maybe even surpasses them. You’ll be tempted to hit his hand away in foe, but do not, instead swallow your pride and disgust and hold his _impure_ hand in friendship.”

Arthur could hardly process the prophecy when the beast lunged at him, and Merlin reacted without thinking. Arthur stumbled away when Merlin shoved him away with the brunt of his body. His feeling of triumph was quickly wiped away as the nauseating feeling of a wet substance that sucked on his leg like the mud that surrounded the marshes. _Oh crap_ , Merlin thought as the Kelpie sang of it’s conquer of the horse leg stuck to its flank.

Arthur had the most horrified look across his features, his face pale as if the whole world shifted beneath him and started screaming for ‘Fish’. Merlin would be incredibly touched at any other occasion but definitely after this, if he had an after. Merlin was quickly panicking as the sickening feeling grew in surface area around his leg that was becoming more steadfast attached to the kelpie. He was wondering if he could cut off his leg and if he could still have a leg even in human form. Wait a minute, would turning into a human form help him escape with all limbs attached? He gave an uneasy whinny as the kelpie grew in size until Merlin barely came to its chest, and the eyes no longer held a life spark. It was dead and dull, and the kelpie’s horse form was increasingly becoming rotted and it stunk to high sky. It swiveled its half skeletal face to look at Merlin, and immediately shot at him too quick for him to pull away.

Merlin gave a frightened scream as the kelpie bit into his thigh, teeth sharpened like knives, digging further and further into his flesh. Lancelot yelled and tried to stab the kelpie but to no avail. He tried to dig his hooves into the soft marshland dirt but it only yielded with little resistance and only caused Merlin to slid even further. The rest of the Knights tried to attack the monster but it only shook off their attacks, and even Merlin’s subtle magical attacks had done no good. Merlin gave another terrified whiny as he finally registered the watery depths that it was backing down into.

_Stop! You’re going to drown me, but I have a destiny to protect Arthur! Your prophecy was about Mordred wasn’t it? I have to stay more than ever!!! GODS, JUST STOP! I DON’T WANT TO DROWN, I’LL CUT OFF OF MY OWN LEG IF I HAVE TO!_

_Stop struggling, Emrys, I’m doing you a favour._

_TELLING ME TO STOP STRUGGLING ISN’T VERY COMFORTING, YOU’RE GOING TO EAT ME AND I’M GOING TO DIE…..AGAIN._

_Don’t you know that this equine form isn’t the only form I take? I’m rather an expert in equine-to-human transformations and vice versa. The creatures of the Old Religion have been alerted ever since the Unicorn incident to help you out in times of trouble. I rather dislike that the entire magical community of various creatures have to look after you like a nursemaid. But after all, we must give you our wisdom, you can’t just read from only dusty old books, young warlock._

_WHAT? What? What. But why do you have your TEETH in my bloody thigh, that hurts like you wouldn’t believe, son of a…._

_Acting._

Merlin gave a loud mix of a confused and scared whinny, this kelpie must be _insane_ surely. And it wasn’t helping that the kelpie kept backing into the still lake behind them, and that the water was now trickling up to his neck. His eyes were so wide that he was slightly concerned that they might pop out from sheer alarm. The Knights have stopped fighting since the kelpie was no longer in range and Arthur suddenly ran into the water and started tugging on his bridle. Merlin appreciated Arthur’s borderline frantic attempts at salvation, but even Merlin didn’t see a way out of this.

_There is a cavern far below and I can take you to it. I can transform you back into yourself and your Knights would no longer question the strangeness of a human in the place of your ‘Fish’. What an amusing name. Also, I’m sure that you can transport yourself back home._

_I’m not uh….an expert in transporting. I almost lost a finger to it._

_I’m sure I have a magical artifact somewhere, several of my victims were sorcerers, and they needed help with their transporting powers. I quickly confiscated such items immediately, after all a kelpie has to eat, right?_

_Please…...just stop talking._

Merlin eased Arthur’s grip off of his bridle with a final look, get home safe prat, and he finally plunged beneath the surface of the lake. He saw his air bubbles quickly escaping to the surface, the dull light from above quickly darkening as they went deeper. Arthur’s obscured face finally disappeared as the kelpie abruptly turned sideways into a tunnel that dug into one of the lake’s walls. Merlin blinked a light into existence and immediately grimaced as he saw human skeletons lining the floor, at least half of them horrifying smaller than an adult. Some of them even looked even recent, but with huge obvious chomps on them. Perhaps it was the lake’s currents that pulled bits of loose flesh away to the shore. It was disgusting all in all, but Merlin had to acquiesce to the fact that the kelpie had to eat, but he definitely wished that he ate alternatives.

Merlin gave a heaving breath when the kelpie finally pulled both of them onto the hard cavern floor, _so it wasn’t lying after all_. The thought wasn’t completely comforting to the transformed horse. Merlin finally allowed himself to feel relief when the kelpie’s skin detached itself from Merlin’s leg. Merlin laid on the hard floor with his legs all folded beneath him, and looked up at the kelpie with big pitiful eyes.

_So, how do I turn back?_

The kelpie changed it’s shape to become smaller, closer to Merlin’s size, and mirrored Merlin’s position on the floor with a huff.

_Listen, my brother. You need to accept that you are not just one or the other, that you are **both**. You are still the same soul, no matter what you look on the outside, but you also need to accept that you have a preferred form. Once you understand that you rather prefer to be one thing, it is easier to transform to that default form than between non-preferred forms. For example, I could transform into a man but it would be harder turning into a man than into my equine form. Perhaps a maiden if I’m feeling particularly adventurous, but it would even harder to transform from a man to a woman, than into equine. Do you understand?_

_Yes, but I definitely prefer being human! I don’t understand why I’m not human, I tried the chant every morning but it doesn’t work._

_Do something that belongs only to you, do not always follow the words of stuffy old men. You need to commune with the earth, the all loving mother of us all, and talk to your fellow creatures with different life experiences and you’ll find that they have their own wisdom. Here’s mine; beasts and monsters are terrible pets, but they make good friends._

_…..I think understand now. I’m going to try again._

Merlin closed his eyes and allowed his magic, usually tightly bundled in his chest (where Ambrosius slept) like a knotted ball of string, to be free. The earth around him suddenly seemed to come alive and he could faint thump of a beat in the distance, as if a heart was pumping at the very center of it. Merlin could always feel that the earth was alive, but he never allowed himself to bask in the full euphoria of how everything was _connected_ , a wheel of life and death. Everything flowed, and his equine form was no exception.

He gasped as he felt his hands splay out beneath, and he had _fingers_ now! He gave a scowl as he realized that he was naked in a similar position of his horse form was. He bowed his spine upwards and grinned in satisfaction that he was finally _flexible_ enough that he work out all of the kinks in his body that he couldn’t fix in his equine. He rubbed his neck and laid out his legs open lazily, almost drunk with how at ease he felt in the embrace of the earth around him. The kelpie was right, the earth was like Hunith, it constantly seeked love and hugs from its children.

_I believe that it's best that you leave, I am feeling rather famished and it’s a shame that your preferred form is human. I had a feeling we could be friends._

The kelpie smiled and Merlin paled at its razor sharp teeth. Actually now that he thought about it, Merlin examined his lower regions and he could see an almost frightening large bite that circled the meat of his right buttocks and upper thigh. It was thankfully already healed, perhaps the connection to the earth prompted his magic to heal it. Which was surprising since he was usually rubbish at the healing arts. Perhaps one day he’ll fix that. He glanced at his scar again, and it was immediately wiped away with the constant spell of concealment that he had on his persons. He shifted on the cold damp floor, and winced as he felt another scar, oh right, that drunkard slashed at him with his knife. Now his other side of his butt was scarred with a long slash that also ran over his left hips as well, that was probably where his equine flank translated to then.

_Goodbye brother, we won’t be crossing paths again._

Merlin waved goodbye and shut his eyes as he asked nicely to the wise earth around him to carry him home. It acquiesced with pleasure at his politeness and he feel his body tugged forward as if he was traveling over long distances, and Merlin let it do the work for him since he didn’t know a fig about transporting spells either.

“Bloody hell, Merlin! I was going to have to fake your death if I had to if you took any longer! I’ve had to throw _seven_ soups out the window in the past few days.” Gaius admonished as soon as he set his eyes on his ward, and automatically wrapped a nearby blanket over his naked ward. 

“Nice to see you too, Gaius.” Merlin grinned as he shivered in his ratty blanket, “Do you have any soups leftover?”

“Yes, now tell me everything.” Gaius rubbed his ward’s messy hair fondly as he put a bowl of soup in front of his boy, he’s always kept a bowl over the fire in preparation for this exact moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arthur will hold a funeral service for a _horse_ , which makes Merlin laugh to no end.
> 
> oooohhhh weee! This took a while :D
> 
> this was great, what did ya think?
> 
> kudos and comments would be amazing <3


	3. The White Stag's Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is advised by Gaius to try to work his way downwards by transforming into smaller animals step by step. Of course on a day much further away when Merlin is well rested after the whole Dragon and Fish debacle back to back.
> 
> However his destiny has other plans....

 

“Do you want to hear my suggestion, Merlin?” Gaius asked his ward, who looked on the edge of sleep with a dusty magic book held close to his curled up form on the high windowsill.

“What?” Merlin asked as he blinked blearily against the morning that was filtering through the stained glass pane. Gaius sighed, he knew that the idea of shapeshifting hadn’t left his boy’s head despite the funeral yesterday. Fish had received the highest honors and there were plans to have a plaque commissioned to be hung under one of the biggest apple trees in the castle gardens. So, if Merlin kept insisting that he find out everything he could about shapeshifting, best that he do it under his guidance. Otherwise, next time Merlin’s death won’t be faked, and it would be permanent. 

“I think that you should work your way down to a smaller size instead of just leaping to it, to get your magic adjusted to it in stages. So, choose an animal that is smaller than your equine form, but not by too much. I was thinking of a deer or stag of some kind. You certainly seem like a fleeing deer whenever you run, that is until you fall down.” Gaius told him with a look over his rimmed glasses, and raised an eyebrow when Merlin suddenly seemed more awake. 

“You really think so, Gaius?” Merlin asked hopefully, Gaius nodded, and his ward bounced around the room as he examined the book in one hand and got the necessary ingredients in the other. 

“Wait, Merlin.” Gaius said but gave an exasperated sigh when he didn’t hear, “Stop it, Merlin!”

Merlin stilled in place and looked at his mentor with wide and questioning eyes, the foolish boy didn’t see any flaws in his plan then. Well that simply wouldn’t do. This is exactly what led to the debacle around Merlin’s non-humans forms in the past. 

This time would be different however, preparations would be made instead of going into it headlong with no safety net to begin with. Merlin, despite the prophecies, was still a young man that needed guidance and an actual education beyond Arthur’s weekly problems that called for last minute research sessions.

“What were the problems that you encountered as a horse? As a dragon? Sit down, Merlin. Tell me, and put that damn book down before you turn a hand into a foot, of a  _different_ species.” Gaius scolded as Merlin sat down across from Gaius with a thump, legs splayed all over the place that only solidified Merlin’s connection to deers in the old man’s mind.

“I couldn’t talk.” Merlin said with a furrow of his brows as he thought deeply, “I couldn’t communicate with anybody. I tried to talk to the horses but it was as if I was still speaking English, not their horse language or whatever. The only beings I could talk to were magical creatures like Ambrosius and the kelpie, they had mind speak like the Druids do. So theoretically I could talk to Druids, right?” suddenly Merlin smacked his head so hard that it left a smarting red handprint, “I forgot to ask the kelpie what Morgana and Morgause wanted to know!” 

Gaius sighed, one deep to his soul, his ward’s forgetfulness was another thing that he wasn’t sure that could be fixed. Like Merlin’s clumsiness. However, Merlin had said that it had something to do with a plan that would come to fruition in nearly a year’s time. So that it wasn’t a problem worth discussing right now, and Merlin needed to concentrate about shapeshifting.

“Nothing can be done about it right now. Please continue Merlin, were there any other problems about your communication? How do you think you can solve it?” Gaius asked as he moved his head to look into Merlin’s eyes and pull him out of his brood. 

“I need to talk to Lancelot, but how?” Merlin said quietly, “Maybe a spell to speak telepathically, no matter if they had magic or not? Or I could fix my vocals, if I can have dragon speak despite that I’m human, then I can do human-speak in a sense, right? And I know that animals can speak, me attempting to communicate to the other royal horses (but it didn’t work out) proved that, so maybe another spell to translate myself? Does any of that exist, Gaius?” Merlin asked as he pushed the book toward Gaius, and asked with such pleading eyes that the old man could hardly say no to. 

“Yes, but there are several flaws that I need to point out. Telepathy exists, but it isn’t as much as a spell but an ability you could hone. Your magic has already made you naturally inclined to telepathy, you just need to widen your own mind’s horizon to reach out to other minds. Imagine as if your thoughts were a boat, and to leave the moor of your own head, you must tie a rope to the other moor to build a firm connection between the two. You then would pack certain feelings and messages into your chosen thought-boat and you send them along the rope. Even non-magical individuals would quickly figure the mechanics out, and it’ll easily become a two-way communication. The flaw is establishing a connection, and then destroying it. I suggest to be very careful with it, such things that mess with the fragility of the mind needs to be taken with extreme caution.” Gaius explained, and he could see Merlin’s eyes narrowed in concentration to remember such crucial information, or at least he hoped so.

“What are the other flaws?” Merlin prompted as he made himself comfortable by resting his head on his crossed elbows. 

“Imagine that you had a talking horse on your hands, I believe it would be highly disconcerting wouldn’t it? People would mistake it for a magical creature, and then try to kill it because magical creatures aren’t allowed to live in this kingdom, or if any. And talking horses would simply be absurd and strange, so I don’t suggest it. A fake nicker would perhaps give you away. Furthermore, what if you needed to implement one of your planned strategies involved with this ability and you immediately get found out because you said a sheep’s baa instead of a cow’s moo or something silly like that.” Gaius spelled out for his ward, and he could very easily imagine such foolish mistakes that could be made in the heat of the moment. 

Merlin had such an offended look on his face that Gaius had to chuckle, “Did you forget that I grew up with farmers, and me myself was one? I wouldn’t mix up my sounds, Gaius. In fact, I could probably do them better than the animals themselves!” 

“Merlin.” Gaius said but got quickly got cut off.

“Moooooo.” Merlin’s face sagged into a bored expression and then moved his ears with his fingers in a copy of the cow’s ear flicks.

“You’re not going to let this go are you?” Gaius sighed as he saw his ward switch his face to a different expression.

“Ble-AT! Bleat! Bleaaat.” Merlin said with the most convincing tone that Gaius ever heard. So, upon seeing Gaius’ expression, Merlin became undeniably proud that he managed to impress his mentor, and beamed with a childlike happiness. 

“ _Hee-haw,_ _**hee-hawwww.**_ ” Merlin got up from his slumped position on the stool and stood up as he got more and more into his argument in how wrong Gaius assumption was. So, the old man could do nothing when Merlin got this stubborn, and instead laid back to watch the show. Merlin honked, oinked, hissed, bellowed, roared, and growled to his heart’s content. His sounds ranged from a quiet monotone bee’s buzz to a memorable eagle’s screech. He jumped around the chambers excitedly as he dramatically acted out the part of the respective animal to their sound; he spent some time demonstrating the difference in sounds spoken by the cat and dog. The door to the physician's quarters opened at the exact ending moment of Merlin’s opus; he was flapping his elbows at his sides as he stood on the table, screaming the unmistakeable crows of the morning rooster.

“It’s past dawn, Merlin.” Gwen said unperturbed, both Gaius and her had learned to accept Merlin’s antics long ago.

“It’s not uh, what it looks like. Gaius said that I would mix up animal sounds, and I needed to remind him that I grew up in the farming village of Ealdor for most of my life. And then, I guess I got too much into it? Oops.” Merlin rambled as he jumped down back on the wooden floor, and helped his friend to sit down at Gaius’ table. Gaius excused himself to take a well-timed trip to the lower town, no doubt Merlin and Gwen would gossip, as such was the ways of the young. Guinevere and Merlin are very good friends, and he was glad for Gwen’s support of his magic, which seemed to only strengthen their friendship. Discussions of shapeshifting would have to be postponed for another day. Merlin should rest from his week of being a horse and perhaps try again much  _much_ later.

+++

Merlin panted as he ran through the woods, his legs flying over wayward shrubs and dips in the uneven terrain, and pushed branches out of way with flailing hands. The shouts only came louder behind him, and the guttural barks made only him push himself only further beyond his body’s limits. 

He was so scared. Oh gods.

The slave traders only screamed for their horses to go faster, and Merlin fervently begged for his legs not to give out beneath him, despite the knowledge that he would quickly be outrunned in mere moments. He needed help, what to do,  _what to do?_ His magic was the only reason that he was still moving, even though he should’ve passed out a while ago. 

Gwen shouted from somewhere in the back of the group, her cage rattling loud as it bumped heavily on the forest floor. Right, the slave traders saw him trying to free Gwen from her chains with magic. They both found out rather quickly that the slave traders also held another calling in life, they were also witch-hunters that not only stole castle servants that were simply just collecting herbs together, but sorcerers as well. However, no matter what they were in the end, they sold people to the highest bidder. Or killed them to gain coin. Win-win, right?

Merlin and Gwen of course heartily disagreed with this mentality. However, Merlin still didn’t know a lick of any official spells of shapeshifting to turn them into birds if things came to the worst case scenario. He only skimmed a bit over the telepathy section before he accepted Gwen’s invitation, and that’s how they ended up into this mess only two hours later.

Thoughts of his best friend only galvanized him, and he soon became a brown streak that could be seen through the thin trees. He needed to escape, and suddenly the kelpie’s advice hit him like lightening. Of course! Everything flowed! So, if he turned into a stag, then they wouldn’t think it would be him anymore right?

Merlin breathed raggedly as he let his magic flow out from it’s self imposed prison, and detached himself from his human body. He could almost feel his legs becoming lighter like as if it was filled with air. Now for the tricky part. Conveniently, he could see a fallen tree trunk ahead in his path, so he started leaning his body forward and positioned his arms beneath him. Merlin gave a shout as he used the remaining strength offered by his magic to propel himself into free fall by jumping off the thick trunk with his hooves. 

It was strange to see his arms blur like a disturbed pond and his clothes automatically fell away to reveal the pure white fur underneath. His eyelashes grew in length and he landed onto the ground with two more limbs than he did leaving it. The witch-hunters gave shouts of confusion from behind him, and Merlin kept running. Prancing, more like. The forest’s obstacles seemed to disappear entirely. 

Running as a stag felt like pure dancing, and Merlin had never felt more graceful than now. He grunted as he felt something slam into his head, but not quite. Then it hit him (literally) that he had  _large_ white antlers attached to his skull. The dogs and hunters shouting and calls of violence grew fainter behind him as he pranced and skipped his way through the forest as if it was a clear plain. 

He had registered the clean whistle of an arrow far too late, but he had to blame his fatigue. He squealed in pain as his limbs finally failed beneath him, and he stumbled to a stop in a clearing.

He breathed heavily as he panted against the grass, the afternoon sunlight shone through the hole in the canopy of the clearing. He cursed as he saw the  _iron_ bolt sticking out of his gut, almost grazing his left hip. There was no point in changing back into human form  _now_ , he thought irritatedly, and a bolt this thick would kill him (usually). So, any way Merlin could cut it, he was stuck as a white stag, but now injured.

Great.

The witch-hunters whistled appreciatively at the beautiful image of the fallen stag, laid delicately across the ground. Merlin narrowed his eyes as he saw the leader of the slave traders, Warren, walked closer to him. He refused to scream when Warren pushed the iron bolt further up into his flesh, he only allowed harsh grunts to escape instead. The bolt was slowly sapping his magic away, causing it to become slow and lumpy, this wasn’t good at all. It was like those debilitating herbs that the Druids gave him when he was younger, but much  _much_ worse, and against his will.

“I wonder it would be cannibalism if we ate this beauty right here. Aren’t you a pretty little thing? We can saw off those antlers of yours and I’m sure they’ll have magical qualities that my buyers would be interested in. White stags are well known for being magical beasts, ask any child, and they’ll tell you that they are messengers from the otherworld, or appear when someone is doing something bad. Like now.” Warren gave a nasal laugh, and his men laughed with him as well.

Gwen was watching the scene with worried eyes from her cage, and he was sure that she was calculating a way to help him somehow.

“What’s  _your_ message, pretty stag?” Warren asked as he stroked Merlin’s cheekbone with the blunt end of his stout knife. Merlin’s blue doe eyes narrowed. There was really only  one  heartfelt message for this wicked man that he felt that he had to give.

_Fuck you._

Warren started, and looked around to his men but saw that none of them had reacted to the strange voice in his head. He growled and kicked at the iron bolt, and Merlin couldn’t keep a pained squeal from escaping. Merlin could tell that Warren was quickly trying to figure out how to communicate back but he didn’t want to hear the man’s vile thoughts in his head. Verbal was just enough, thanks. So he cut the mental rope with a knife, and the connection went limp.

Merlin’s eyes widened as he spotted the unmistakable red capes of Camelot to the side, and none of Warren’s men were looking. He tried to move but the iron bolt had sapped too much of his strength and his earlier fatigue was now catching up to him. 

He could see Gwen trying to capture the attention of the Camelot patrol from her cage, but Merlin had  **zero** faith in their thick-headedness and obliviousness. So, they were going to receive no help at all from them. That’s how they were, and how they would be. 

“Men, get me my crossbow. I think it’s time that we end this thing’s suffering, it’s the  _right_ thing to do, eh? Who cares if bad luck befalls on us, we can gut it up so much that there  _won’t_ be a thing for it to haunt. If anything, it’ll hurt Camelot, not us. We can sell vials of it’s blood, antlers, and body parts when we sell the girl to slavery. Win-win for all, right men?” Warren chuckled as he finally got his crossbow, and Merlin stared defiantly at him, despite the bolt unnervingly close to his eye. Warren gave a wide grin as his finger gently pushed on the trigger, and Merlin knew that there was no slowing time this time, because his magic was too depleted for that. Anyways, when the bolt takes his magic to dangerous lows, he’ll die. This was just quicker.

“On me!” Arthur yelled as his knights screamed as they stormed the clearing, completely to both Warren’s and Merlin’s surprise.

“Attack!” Warren shouted back at his own men, and aimed the crossbow he was still holding at the nearest Knight. Merlin could do nothing as he heard a pained groan moments later, his magic was too clumpy and useless!  _He_ was useless. Greatest warlock ever to walk the Earth indeed, Merlin thought bitterly. He tried to move again but he winced when a spasm of pain jolted through his body from the bolt. He couldn’t even bloody see Arthur from his position!

Warren gasped as he fell to the ground, a quiet squelch as the sword was pulled out from his gut. Merlin gave a relieved sigh as he saw Arthur standing over him, but then immediately tensed again when he  _still_ had his sword out. Right, blatantly obvious magical creature meets blatantly non-magical individual who hates magic. Perfect. Merlin didn’t mind being called a girl, since he was perfectly justified in being scared and trying to pull away despite the pain with each minute movement.

Arthur walked away, but came back only seconds later and set something just outside of Merlin’s scope of view. That wasn’t completely reassuring at all. Then, Arthur stuck his sword into the ground and got on his knees and picked up the mysterious object. Arthur shuffled to just the corner of his eyes, and Merlin was expecting anything at this point. It could be a crossbow, and he decided to shoot Merlin where he couldn’t see. That’s what a prat would do.

He jumped when he felt firm hands around his wound, and gave a loud squeal when one of the hands pulled out the bolt. Immediately he could feel his magic unclump and flow throughout his body like a river on loop. Then to his great surprise, he felt bandages being wrapped around his leg and hip to staunch the wound. He moved his head, thankful for a moment that moving was no longer painful, and saw that the mysterious object had been the medicine bag all along. 

He looked up at Arthur, his blonde hair falling his eyes since he was bent in concentration in tying a knot for his bandages. Without dwelling too much on it, he sent a telepathic link to Arthur, only slightly modifying it to give him a deep voice.

_Thank you, Arthur Pendragon. This is what a good King would do._

Arthur jumped and looked at Merlin, and then his features became briefly shadowed for a moment. He continued bandaging as if nothing was wrong.

_I do not wish to repeat my mistakes. To kill a pure and innocent magical creature would no doubt bring only ill will onto my kingdom. My foolishness with the Unicorn had only driven that lesson home._

_You are becoming very wise. It would help you in your years to come, not only listening to the wisdom of your own teachings, but to the wisdom of others._

_What does that mean?_

That means, listen to me once in a while, prat! Merlin held back from rolling his eyes, he finally had an opportunity to be a cryptic magical creature (like Kilgharrah), he wasn’t letting this go so easy.

_All shall be understood in due time, young prince._

A page out of Kilgharrah book, and Merlin wished he could bottle the prince’s frustration rolling in from their connection. 

Merlin mentally yelped on the inside as Arthur tied the knot almost too tight, if he showed weakness then the prat would be unbearably smug. 

Hesitance flowed through the connection, but resolve came swiftly after as Arthur choose his next words carefully.

_You also come bearing messages from the Otherworld, is…..is there any messages for me? I….just forget it. I do not wish to overstep my bounds, nor a ghastly plague or drought or whatever you curse foolish kings with._

Merlin suddenly felt his throat go very dry, he may be a slightly glowing white stag but he was still human! He wasn’t some magical messenger, he didn’t even know how to go about sending or receiving messages willy nilly! And he can’t give Arthur a fake message, that was just dishonorable.

_I…._

Merlin hesitated, but suddenly Ambrosius uncurled from his sleep from somewhere in the bottom rungs of his ribs. He gave a few sleepy growls, and Merlin tensed as he felt a careful claw scratching at his dome’s or soul’s walls. However, as no pain came and Ambrosius continued to murmur huskily and scratch lightly even more, Merlin was undoubtedly confused.

_Hold on, let me check, Crown Prince Arthur Pendragon of Camelot._

Merlin felt his eyes go gold as he opened up communications with Ambrosius, and made sure Arthur’s line wasn’t tangled with it. His dragon part of him immediately sent an image up to him, and it was like as if he was in that strange place again. However, it was from Ambrosius’ point of view, not his weird glowy and robed self of a soul. Ambrosius was currently looking at the wall, but it was still transparent as a fogged window, one could see through it but not quite. Merlin squinted closer at it as he realized Ambrosius’ scratches into the wall was of the Old Tongue. 

Merlin jumped as a hand from the darkness palmed the wall with a bang. Merlin now saw an approaching figure from the darkness that surrounded the room outside. He gasped as he saw Ygraine’s features form from the darkness, her face lit up in sharp contrast in the light of the golden light of within. Merlin was forced to look at the ground when Ambrosius tilted his head in a bow to the dead queen. When Ambrosius looked back up at her, she had a small smile that softened her otherwise haunting features.

“What message would you like to give to your son, my lady?” Ambrosius asked in a respectful voice, as one does when dealing with the dead.

“Tell him,” Ygraine’s voice cracked, but cleared her throat and blinked harshly, “that I miss him and he made me even prouder than I was a year ago when I met him for the second time.” 

“Is that all, my lady?”

Ygraine’s brows furrowed in thought, and then her features darkened and her smooth features suddenly fell away for a moment to reveal a pale skeleton underneath. 

“No. I come bearing a message, we dead hear many plans and plots but no one to speak to. The dead can’t speak after all. The high denizens of the Otherworld, have told their people that a dark time is coming. They have told us a message that they hope will fall on the ears of the living, a message for both Emrys and my son. The  _Cailleach_ demands an unnecessary price for she is not the only one who can fix it. Please, tell my son.” Ygraine’s eyes finally lost the battle against her oncoming tears and she leaned her forehead against the wall, Merlin felt a chill go up his back when he realized she wasn’t wearing the same clothes a year ago. 

Instead of the pretty dress and prettily pinned up hair like she was going to a banquet. Her hair was loose and dripping with sweat, and wearing a plain white underdress that had fresh blood deeply stained between her legs, still dripping. Her eyes looked sunken in and her features gaunt and pallid, she looked like she died. Minutes ago.

Ambrosius tilted his head again in farewell, and wiped the scratches off of the wall with a muttered spell as if it was never there. Ygraine faded into black smoke and there was only darkness like before. Merlin was sent shooting back to reality, the world of men, and suddenly had an horrifying inkling about what it meant that Ambrosius resided in the spirit world. And what that darkness might be.

He blinked and he saw Arthur still staring at him, waiting for an answer. It felt eons down there (or wherever he was) but he had a strong feeling only less than a second passed here. Merlin recited the message to Arthur along the connection, and didn’t mention the true state of his mother, perhaps Morgause had enchanted her to a degree to cover up the horror of it. Arthur should remember his mother pretty and healthy. Merlin wasn’t surprised when Arthur excused himself to check on the horse after the message was done.

_If it is any help, young prince, I can offer my advice. Forgiveness doesn’t excuse your father’s behavior, but it prevents his behavior from destroying your heart. And the past cannot be changed, but the future is yet in your power._

Merlin cut the connection before he could feel Arthur’s response. 

He gave a content sigh when Gwen kneeled next to him and hugged him around the neck. He leaned into her warmth, it was times like this that he was glad for a friend to lean on. He was going to have to disappear mysteriously when no one was watching, and somehow hobble his way back to Camelot. Perhaps he would try healing himself again when he was out of sight, but he didn’t have much faith in his weak healing ability. And then try to hide his bolt wound as he walked the rest of the way to Gaius’ chambers. 

“I hope you’re not thinking of hobbling all the way back to Camelot.” Gwen whispered, and Merlin groaned since she knew him too well, “I’ll be waiting by the east entrance, and don’t try anything else.”

_Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Gwen._

Gwen smiled and she gave him a light peck on his furry forehead, and Merlin felt a bubbly happiness well up in him. When Gwen brought her suspicions to them about Morgana, and then caught Merlin only days later doing chores with magic, he thought she would hate him. However after some panicked explaining and some hard smacks from Gwen to Merlin, and finally tearful relief, their friendship only solidified. She was a great help since she spied on Morgana, while Merlin was busy running after Arthur and saving his royal backside. And together in the evenings, Merling would tell his day’s adventures with dramatic effects and some  _slight_ embellishments, and then Gwen and Merlin would exchange castle gossip, and finally discuss seriously about Morgana and Arthur’s destiny.

_You better not. And did you see me in the fight, I knocked out one of the slave traders with their own pans!_

_Pans, Gwen? You’re getting real obsessed with them._

_Oi, they’re useful! And shouldn’t you be making a convenient exit by now?_

  
Both of their laughter rang in each other’s minds, and Merlin finally grudgingly cut the connection and made his leave. His thoughts whirled as he thought about what animal he should turn into next. Hmmm, this shapeshifting business was actually really awesome. Perhaps his inexperience and fright had turned him away from it, when he simply needed an education. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanksgiving was amazing guys
> 
> And since I was so busy on Weds, Thursday, AND Black Friday, I got bit of writing block since I was like "where the heck was I going with this?"
> 
> So, I let the chapter write itself so I hope it isn't too bad
> 
> And the whole Ambrosius scene was completely unplanned and I'm still in awe in how THAT happened. I didn't mean for the mysterious darkness suddenly add another element to the whole dragon soul mythos 
> 
> Anyways, since this is going in order of size, I can't wait til we get to the last chapter. I'm excited.
> 
> And I have no clue on the chapters in between and I think I need to flesh it out a bit more lol
> 
> Sorry for the late update guys!! And I've started watching some other shows that people suggested since I want to widen my horizons for 480 since the NCIS chapter was a wake up to up my game, mhm
> 
> And I'm actually working on a two-shot on a drabble that everyone wants, it's the MerNatural one where Cas meets Merlin and everything goes to hell 
> 
> So keep an eye out for that one
> 
> It's very tricky since I need to scrape some of what I wrote since after some careful consideration, Merlin is OOC and I was sleep deprived when I wrote it so it needs severe editing
> 
> Love you guys!!!!!!!! Xoxoxo C:


	4. The Horrible Yuletide Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Merlin, look at me.” Mum commanded, and Merlin slowly looked up at her but looked away, it was nigh on impossible to do it._
> 
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>  
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> _“Merlin.” Mum said again, worry finally cracking her firm tone._
> 
> _“I’m sorry.” Merlin whispered, and he stared down at the frozen dirt floor as hot tears rolled down his still wet cheeks._

     Merlin watched with wide eyes from the window, he was barely tall enough to look over the windowsill. Everyone in Ealdor was returning from the fields early, it was one of the few holidays allowed in Cenred’s kingdom, Yuletide. He scanned the crowd of dirty farmers for his mum, and smiled brightly as he spotted the lone woman. 

     He turned around and looked at his shack for a home, despite being the poorest family in Ealdor, they still managed to scrounge up a proper celebration to mark the passing of years. Merlin hopped down from his stool and shivered as his barefeet connected with the frozen dirt. Maybe he would get socks this year, Will’s mother gave them strips of worn leather for him to wear proper shoes last year. However, the shoes were only used for special occasions, and they felt so weird.

     He bounced excitedly to the cold hearth and ignited it with a breath, and kneeled by his bed. He reached with his fingers as far as he could, but he couldn’t reach the log. Merlin huffed and pulled the log toward him using his ‘longer’ fingers. The log was huge and thick, but Merlin asked for a piece from one of the trees, and this fell right in front of him. So it was impolite to ask for a better one really, but there were rot in some places and damp in others, and it was almost too big for little Merlin to carry it. But Merlin knew how to make things lighter than air, so it was no problem to put it down in front of the roaring hearth.

     “Merlin?” Mum asked tiredly from the doorway, but he heard her gasp as she took in the clean house. 

     “I thought it would be proper to celebrate the solstice this year, I know we’re supposed to celebrate Yule to blend in but I wanted to.” Merlin told her quietly, but before his mum could reply, he ran into the corner of the one room hovel that could hardly be classified as a kitchen. He walked back to her with a rough wooden tray in his hands, and she smiled as she saw burnt cookies cooling on it.

     She gasped as she felt the familiar fingers of her son’s magic tugging her down gently, and she sat down into one of their best chairs they owned, pushed underneath her. She stared at the warm fire, and she gave a giggle as her son pushed her closer to it with his magic, and then set the tray in her lap. Merlin beamed with a toothy grin as she stroked his head fondly, and then pulled his thin blanket from his cot to onto her lap, hovering the tray so he could do it. He huffed in irritation as he realized his arms was too short to reach the other side of her lap. 

     “Merlin, why are you doing this? I’m sure this isn’t a required part of the celebrations, to pamper your old mum.” Mum chuckled, and she held the tray high as she helped her son up into her lap and tucked the blanket around both of them.

      “It should be.” Merlin said seriously, but his pout undermined his tone.

      “Is that the Yule log?” Mum asked as her gaze landed on the large log, and then she frowned. 

      “No, I’m gonna do something differently.” Merlin said as he moved his grubby hands upwards to push her frown away from her face, he knew she would disapprove of something so large (despite it wasn’t perfect like the other villagers).

      “What is it? It better not be flashy, Merlin, you know you have to hide your magic.” Mum said as she looked down her son, all traces of mirth gone and worry replaced it.

      “Don’t worry, I won’t do anything.” Merlin defended as he pushed the log onto it’s side, so it resembled more like a tree. He scrunched his nose in concentration as he stared at the log, and grinned as he saw evergreen sprout feebly from the dead log. He wrapped the evergreen around the log and added some sprigs of holly to complete it.

      “See? And because, you told me that the Old Priesteshshes and Prieshts used to celebrate it by making new life.” Merlin explained, but lisped over the double ‘s’s to his frustration. He had been practicing all morning to get it right! He twisted in his seat to look at his mum, expecting disappoint or something since he had failed to say it right again. 

      “Oh my little bird.” Mum choked as she hugged him tightly, and Merlin relaxed in the familiar smell of dirt and the faint huskiness that spoke of a long time spent in the cold. Usually they just hung bit of evergreen in their doorway, but all of their neighbors decorated with it all over their roofs and their larger than life hearths could be seen flickering from their windows in the faint dusk. In an hour from now they would host a large feast in the center of the village, dragging their tables out into the cold and hammering torches into the surrounding ground.

      They weren’t part of the yearly feast because they weren’t a proper family. He remembered last year when Mum wasn’t looking, he tried to sit down on one of the stools, but he was quickly pushed off of it. He could clearly remember the disgusted faces from the other boys, only a few years older than him. His mum found him shivering on the damp ground trying to hold back tears as he asked his mum what a ‘bastard’ meant. He never wanted to see his mum’s expression in that moment ever again, features broken like shattered glass and a bone deep weariness that should’ve belonged only to the village’s old crone. 

      So, they would be sitting close to the hearth and eat a slightly frozen chicken, and Mum would hug him close when Merlin’s lips watered as they smelled pleasant aromas of the feast drifted in. Merlin was young but he wasn’t dumb, Mum used to be held in high esteem being a learned woman but everything changed when Merlin was born. Her reputation was in the mud practically overnight, and Mum could no longer eat the warm turkeys or the toasted yams, or even the sweet preserves stored from yesteryear. It was completely Merlin’s fault that they couldn’t even eat with Will, he was born in wedlock unlike him. At least Will spied on his cooking mother and tried to give Merlin the recipe for perfect cookies, but he was too impatient and burned them in a fit. 

      Merlin stared into the mesmerizing flames, and ignored the reassuring kisses to his head as the pleasant aromas finally came in through the cracks of their shack. It would be another few minutes before his Mum stands up and take out her chicken and they would eat it at their tiny table. Merlin played with the fire by making images with it, and he continued to stew in the unfairness of it. Why shouldn’t he eat at the feast, just because of how he was born? 

     Laughter rang in from outside, and the clinks of ale mugs could be heard. Merlin tensed as they heard the unmistakeable peals of Will’s laughter, look like this year was happier than usual. Maybe Will was making better friends than him, ones that he could eat with at feasts. 

      “It isn’t fair, we’re part of this village too.” Merlin said softly, and licked his lips as he sniffed in the toasted venison cooked to perfection with a tang of sweetness.

      “Merlin, this is how things always go in this village, it’s their custom. They have been doing this for decades.” Mum explained wearily.

      “It’s unfair.” Merlin said stubbornly.

      “I know, my little bird, I know.” Mum said simply.

      Merlin stared into the flickering flames some more, the seeds of an idea beginning to flower. He wasn’t allowed to sit at the long table, but they didn’t say anything about eating the food. His concentrated expression didn’t change even when Mum finally stood up to set out the chicken, and he was left alone at the hearth. 

      He whirled around as Mum squealed in disgust as a rat tried to attack their dinner. She set the chicken on the table with a bang as she grabbed the broom swiftly and beat the rat out of the way. Merlin shot up from his seat and ran toward the frightened rat and stood in front of Mum, bodily shielding it. 

      “It was just hungry, Mum. Don’t let it out into the cold.” Merlin asked with big wide eyes, the kind he rarely used since there wasn’t much in this world that Mum could give what he begged for. 

      Mum put her broom down, “You have a very kind heart, don’t let anyone or anything ever change that.” she said as she hugged him.

      “Can he be our guest? Our eshemmed guest.” Merlin asked as he looked at the matted rat, despite the missing eye and a bit off ear, Merlin could only see himself.

     “Esteemed.” Mum corrected and then looked at the rat as well, “Fine, but if only he’s very civil and polite.”

      Merlin beamed, and then picked up the rat with the extra fabric of his sleeves and used his magic to stack books high enough for the rat to sit at the table. It squeaked in confusion as Merlin and Mum sat at the table as well, and was given a generous helping of the chicken as if it was a third person. 

_It’s alright little rat, we know how it’s like to starve and be in the cold. so you’re our guest today. Mum said that you’re only allowed to eat here if you’re very polite and civil. That just means don’t eat the rest of the our food since we need it too, and don’t run off either._

      Merlin looked at the rat processing it, and he could imagine briefly for a moment that the third helping at the table was for his father, not a rat. But Mum always said that he shouldn’t wish for impossible things. Maybe the rat was his father, cursed by a cross witch, and by showing kindness the rat would transform back into his human form. Like in the stories of the Old, the ones the traveling bards tell when they pass by this sleepy town.

_Thank you, sir. Your kindness shall not be forgotten._

      Merlin startled that he got an answer, but the rat made no further comment as it dug in with obvious restraint. Mum raised her eyebrows but she kept eating as well. Merlin was able to talk to animals but it had been fading as of late, he wondered if it was because he was getting older. Like how (well-fed) boys eventually lose their pudge around their cheeks and their lanky frame gets replaced with strong and firm muscle. Maybe he would just grow out of his magic altogether and Mum wouldn’t have to worry anymore. He tried to get rid of his magic once, it didn’t end too well. The tang of blood on his tongue and Mum’s soft cries wouldn’t be forgotten anytime soon.

      Actually, as he looked at the rat again, his earlier plans came to the forefront of his mind again. His plan would work, definitely, no doubt about it. The feast came to an end at midnight, but usually Mum and Merlin would be fast asleep before then. However, seeing Mum’s surprise at being cared for and loved only made Merlin even more angry at their circumstances. The old ways should be the ones down in the mud this time. 

      His gaze moved to their log by the fire, if Yuletide taught Merlin anything; change was the _only_ thing in this world that was permanent. On a whim, he gave second helpings to all of them, a rare thing in this household. 

      “Merlin!” Mum admonished, and then examined the almost bare skeleton of their chicken to see how much must be rationed in the next few days. Merlin didn’t regret it. They would be having their own feast tonight, no matter how much Mum and the old ways said about it.

      Merlin stayed awake in his cot, he made sure to breathe deep and even to fool his mum into thinking that he was asleep. He knew lying to his own mum was wrong, but the end justified the means. Hopefully his plan would make sure that the two of them wouldn’t starve for a while, he knew Mum sometimes starved herself first before Merlin starved and he would do everything in his power to stop that. He used all of his will to stay awake, even calling on his magic to gently wake him up when he was on the verge of going under.

      Merlin gave a small victorious smile as Mum finally breathed long and deep (for real). He got off of his cot quietly and tiptoed toward the window he was looking out through earlier. He peeked through carefully, only his eyes was over the sill. A small mischievous grin spread over his face as he saw only the men was left at the feast table, and if the stumbles were any indication, Will would’ve called them ‘roaring drunk’. He breathed in relief as he saw that there was still large leftovers on the table, but quickly covered his mouth with his hand to quiet himself.

      He didn’t give much thought on how to transform, he just simply _did_. His magic just simply followed his will without words or even much thought. In mere moments, he was suddenly sitting on the sill itself and looking down at his tiny paws that looked awfully like strange hands. 

      He was a mangy black rat, which was perfect for what he had in mind. He jumped down from the window, and made his way toward the towering table, now so much larger since he was smaller. His sight, hearing, touch, even his sense of smell has improved vastly as a rat, and the smells coming from the half eaten venison was _bliss_. None of the men was looking, he could surely take a leg….or two, or even three. Merlin swayed closer without thinking from his hiding place in the shadows.

      “Oi, stay out of the torchlight, young sir.” a familiar voice squeaked from behind him, and Merlin whirled around to see the same rat that he fed earlier.

      “It’s you!” Merlin squeaked back in delight, but grimaced as he saw that the rat was more deeply scarred up close.

      “Yes it’s me. Now I gotta ask what are you doing?” the rat’s nose twitched in disapproval, “You may be a rat sir, but you aren’t thinking like one.”

      “You don’t have to call me sir, you know. I’m just a nobody in some forgotten farming village, so just call me by my mum’s name, Merlin.” Merlin said as he looked up into the older rat’s sole eye, examining him carefully.

      “Lex.” the rat answered after a silence, “Now these men may be pissing drunk but they aren’t blind, they still got two eyes. You gotta be sneaky and keep to the shadows, the shadows are safe si--Merlin. The shadows are what keeps you alive, in a dangerous world where bigger things than you can crush you underfoot, but they can do much more unseemly things to you if you aren’t smart.” 

      Merlin gulped as he saw Lex’s injuries in a new light, it seemed that this rat had learned some of his wisdom the hard way. 

      “Shadows, safety, got it.” Merlin backed up from the ring of the flickering torchlight, “But if we’re staying in the shadows then how are we getting the food?” 

      “Watch and learn, young si--Merlin.” Lex gave a grin, and Merlin’s nose twitched in disgust as he saw his teeth was stained yellow and even black in some places.

     Lex ran away from Merlin, skirting the edges of the torchlight around the feast table. Lex crouched in wait as he squeaked loudly right behind a slumped man in the dead grass. The slumped man sluggishly sat up, and confusedly turned around in his seat for the source of the noise. The man spoke but Merlin couldn’t make out the words, then it hit the boy that the man was still speaking English, but it sounded completely foreign to him now. 

      The man slurred something to his drunk friends, and Merlin briefly recognized the man was the local blacksmith, before he stood up and stumbled into the direction of the squeaking. Merlin could make out Lex’s delight in the darkness, and then Lex scampered off to get out of the man’s way. Lex tilted his head toward the large empty spot left behind by the blacksmith, his friends too busy staring off into space or into their ale mugs.

      Merlin ran toward Lex’s position, and making sure that he stayed in the shadows like Lex advised. The two of them stared at the turkey plate on the table, open for the taking. Suddenly a tendril of guilt twisted his insides, should he? What if the turkey was meant for leftovers for another family here? This plan didn’t seem like a good idea anymore, but he made it this far, he should finish what he started. He would just take a leg or two, that’s it. It’s not like he could lug entire plates back home.

      “Now what?” Merlin asked curiously to Lex.

      “Now, you have to time it. I take a leg, you take the other, and we’ll just scuttle back to your home. Nothing fancy, got it?” Lex explained as he stared him down.

      “We go at the same time?” Merlin said as his nose again scrunched in confusion.

     “No Merlin, we go one at a time. I’m sure they’ll notice if two scruffy rats attacked their food at the same time.” Lex explained with a sigh, and then did something that surprised Merlin, he whacked Merlin over the head with his tail. Like Mum does sometimes when she accuses Merlin isn’t using his head. The same mixture of fondness but irritation. Merlin grinned despite the smarting pain. 

      Story of his life.

      “I’ll go first.” Lex said gruffly, “See how the professionals do it.” Merlin nodded in agreement, and Lex turned to get a running head start. Lex then sprinted toward the stool in one large leap, and then carefully stayed still in the shaded seat. Once he was sure that the men forgot about any strange darting shadows, Lex stood on his back paws and examined the table and it’s occupants with a critical eye. He moved so quick that he was a blur of black and tore away the still untouched turkey leg and then scuttled back into the darkness before anyone could even get up. 

      Lex held the turkey leg in his teeth as he sat next to Merlin in silent victory, and Merlin beamed at him in approval. 

      “You’re next, be quick and don’t get caught. I suspect the old lady won’t like it if you do.” Lex warned but shooed Merlin away with his tail encouragingly. Merlin’s blue eyes, unsettling on a rat if you asked Lex, narrowed as he took in the other turkey leg. He watched the table’s occupants with calculating eyes as he made sure none of them was sober nor near enough to catch Merlin. He then darted up to the same stool that Lex occupied and went back on his back paws to examine the rest of the table. The leg was right there! Only a few inches in front of him, a quick risky run from the shadows and into the light, but it would be worth it. 

      Merlin suddenly tensed as he felt a big beefy hand grab him by the scruff of his neck, and he paled as he was pulled up from the stool and into the blacksmith’s disgusted eyes. Oh no. Merlin squeaked and squealed in fright as the man’s hand tightened, with no sign of letting go of his capture.

      The man slurred something angrily as he took in the obvious disappearance of a turkey leg from his plate. Using his free hand, he hit one of his friends awake and then pointed at Merlin and then gestured toward the cauldron of warm soup in the center of the feast. However, it was already devoid of all vegetables and flavor, it was only just hot juice being kept warm by the small fire pit underneath. 

_Oh no._

      Merlin may not be understand English right now, but he definitely can still put two and two together. The men’s laughter around the table as the blacksmith ambled drunkenly toward the still scalding hot cauldron with Merlin still held tight in his iron grip. Merlin struggled with terrified squeals as the blacksmith moved closer with each stumble-walk. He needed help, and he needed it _now_. 

     He scanned the shadows beyond the torchlight for Lex, maybe the old rat would help him! Merlin squinted and stretched his eyesight to the limit, but Lex was nowhere to be found. Merlin slumped in the blacksmith’s hold as he realized Lex had abandoned him and took the turkey leg for himself, no doubt that was why he wanted to go first. Hot tears burned at the corner of his eyes, his mother would sleep contently without knowing that her son was about to die only metres away. 

      No, he wouldn’t lose hope. Merlin stared into the cauldron, a slow and agonizing death was waiting for him there. But he grimly thought with dark humor that he found something worse than the pyre. He only had been on this green earth for five winters, this would’ve been his sixth if it weren’t for his jaded plans tonight. He learned his lesson, bitterness would kill him, so he clung on to the hope that things would turn out alright somehow despite how late the revelation was. Perhaps, Merlin hoped, Mum would be able to eat the feasts again if Merlin was gone.

     “What do you think you’re doing!” Mum’s voice rang clear and true through the night, “You’re laughing to high heaven, don’t you think your wives would like to have a warm bed tonight? I am trying to sleep, and Tom put down that dirty rat, the poor thing doesn’t need a helping hand in his inevitable demise!”

      Merlin grunted as he hit the ground, and scampered into the shadows immediately. He was surprised that he could understood English again, or perhaps he would always understand Mum, no matter how he was. Despite Lex’s betrayal, he was right, the shadows was the safest place to be. He darted through the dead grass, and he no longer felt on edge when the men blew out their torches, and the village was reclaimed by the darkness again. He squeezed through a crack in their door, but stilled to a stop as he realized Mum was standing there with a candle in her hand.

      Merlin sheepishly turned back into a human, and immediately shivered since his clothes had slid off of his small form. Mum’s lips were pulled tight in a straight line as she threw a blanket at him harshly, and Merlin curled into a ball to cover himself with the holey blanket. Merlin sat there in silence as he waited for Mum to speak, but his worry and shame only grew as Mum said nothing. 

     A squeak came from beside Mum, and Merlin’s gaze was finally pulled away from Mum’s piercing one. Lex was there, almost hidden in the shadows beneath Mum’s skirts. Merlin realized immediately that Lex must’ve tattled, he didn’t know how, but he did. 

      “Merlin, look at me.” Mum commanded, and Merlin slowly looked up at her but looked away, it was nigh on impossible to do it.

      “Merlin.” Mum said again, worry finally cracking her firm tone.

      “I’m sorry.” Merlin whispered, and he stared down at the frozen dirt floor as hot tears rolled down his still wet cheeks. He wanted to help unburden his mother today, he cleaned the house, got the best log he could, he even fluffed the pillows on Mum’s favorite chair so she would be comfortable. Instead he undoed hours of his work in only a matter of minutes, and now she was more worried than ever. Merlin sobbed, he wanted to help so badly. He asked his mum on multiple occasions to help by working in the fields too, he wanted to hunt, he would even help gather herbs if he knew how. His mum was the best one in the whole world, and she was the only parent he had. Will would someday leave him, maybe he would outgrow him, but Mum would be with him forever and ever. 

      “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Merlin chanted quietly as his sobs wracked his tiny frame, “I know I shouldn’t cry like a big baby, but I just wanted to help. I was gonna get the other turkey leg, nobody would miss it!”

      “Merlin, you shouldn’t do that anymore. You would send me to an early grave, my little bird. Promise me you won’t scamper off into the night and steal food like a bandit.” Mum’s voice wobbled but stayed firm as she could, “Do not ever change yourself again, stay human, please at least for my peace of mind? How could I keep vigil over a son that changes from a bird to a fox to a roaring lion?”

      Merlin tensed in surprise as he felt warm arms circle around him, but quickly fell into her loving embrace, and cried into her nightdress. 

      “How can I hug my son if he’s a porcupine?” both Merlin and Mum chuckled, “I would still hug you though even if you got swords sticking out every inch of your skin. Because that’s what a mother would do, and you are my son.” 

      “Thanks, Mum.” Merlin said throatily, hoarse from crying but he finally calmed down, “I love you.”

      “I love you too.” his Mum said fondly, “You know I wouldn’t change a thing, if I had a chance to start over. Don’t you?” 

      Merlin shook his head slowly, surprise written clearly against his features.

      “Those feasts are terribly boring, and drab! I’m sure Will tomorrow would be loudly complaining to you all about it. Oh the yams were too sweet, the turkey too spicy, and the jams tasted of rot! I didn’t want to go to those feasts anyways, Merlin, I’m happier than I ever was in my past Yules when I got to spend them with you.” Merlin grinned goofily as Mum tickled him on the elbows to prove her point. 

      “I’m sleepy.” Merlin yawned as he let his body’s weight crash against her larger one, and he curled close to her as she picked him up and tucked him into his bed after tugging on a tunic for him. He smiled as Mum pecked his forehead with a featherlight kiss.

      “Don’t shapeshift again, Merlin. Please I’m begging you, at least save it when you have more guidance and teachings to guide you. I truly wouldn’t know what to do if I was stuck with a donkey for a son, or even half of one! You truly worry me sometimes with your antics, so will you give me your word as a good son?” Mum asked with a pleading but firm tone that Merlin knew that meant that she wasn’t really asking.

      “Course Mum, pinky promise.” Merlin grinned blearily as he held up his pinky, “I never break my pinky promises.” Mum smiled and she took his small pinky with her own, and then put it down. She blew out the candle and the house was dark once more. 

_Stay out of trouble, sir Merlin. I’m going to roll out of town since I know the missus would disapprove of you having a rat for a role model._

     Merlin nodded and then fell asleep, only having enough time to send a thought back before letting sleep take over the connection.

_You too, Lex. I think having a rat for a role model wouldn’t be too bad, you were pretty cool._

     And then Merlin fell asleep before he could hear or feel Lex’s response, and the Horrible Yuletide Incident was forever branded on his mind whenever he thought of shapeshifting, particularly in his puberty phrase. Much to Hunith’s relief that her son hadn’t turned into a mortified beaver if his encounters with the village’s local young girls had turned too rough. She was sure that Will would’ve liked a nifty shapeshifting ability if it meant escaping his own embarrassing fumbles with wooing the girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow this was really angsty
> 
> and I didn't mean to break the order of size since the next animal is a fox, oops!
> 
> so my headcanon is that kid!Merlin was much more powerful since his powers were still settling and he hadn't learned self-restraint or any discipline at all
> 
> it's sorta the same thing when you hear that babys have the same strength as a bull but eventually lose that superhuman strength
> 
> and I finished Nanowrimo at 42k at midnight last night, but it's actually much more impressive because I thought I would lose steam at 30k which is really surprising okay
> 
> this is the most I've ever wrote for any fanfic, the last time I wrote this much was for last year's dcbb, which was around 20k 
> 
> and I hope you guys noticed the parallels of canon!Merlin between rat!Merlin being told to stay in the shadows, so yeah! :D
> 
> and here's a sneak peek into the next chapter since you guys are all so lovely <3
> 
>  
> 
> _“Is Lance still not talking to me?” Merlin huffed irritatedly as he scrubbed Arthur’s dishes in the cacophonous kitchens._
> 
>  
> 
> _“You can hardly blame him. First you terrorize the castle with your Ambrosy form, then you scared him with the whole fake death thing as a horse, and finally you stumble half dead with a gaping wound into Gaius’ chambers when he was looking for you.” Gwen pointed out as she scrubbed her own dishes next to him._
> 
>  **edit** : check updated MSOW series description


	5. I Get By With a Little Help From My Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin talks a bit with Gwen and Lancelot, both of them offer advice that helps lighten his day.
> 
> He wasn't sure what he'd do without them, say what you will about coins but friends (without a dangerous destiny) certainly are worth having.

     “Is Lance still not talking to me?” Merlin huffed irritatedly as he scrubbed Arthur’s dishes in the cacophonous kitchens.

     “You can hardly blame him. First you terrorize the castle with your Ambrosy form, then you scare him with the whole fake death thing as a horse, and finally you stumble half dead with a gaping wound into Gaius’ chambers when he was looking for you.” Gwen pointed out as she scrubbed her own dishes next to him.

    “Oh.” Merlin eloquently said, “Right.”

    “You should apologize to him.” Gwen advised with a soft smile, “Even Percy and Gwaine’s noticed that he’s being sullen and isn’t eating lunch with you like usual. It’s best that you make amends and explain to him about your antics.”

     Merlin bumped her with his hip playfully, “Spoken like a true queen.”

     Gwen giggled and flicked dish water at him, “You know nothing can become of it.”

     “I’m not so sure about, Gwen.” Merlin said seriously, “I may not have been around Arthur as long as you, but I’ve never seen him look at anyone else like he does with you, Gwen.”

     Gwen got a wide eyed look in her eyes as she stared at Merlin, and then scrubbed a little harder at her current dish but gave up with a loud splash.

     “If anything, this past year only proves it.” Merlin elbowed her lightly, “I mean the whole incident with the Goblin---”

     “Merlin!” Gwen said red as a tomato, “You promised me you would never speak of _it._ ”

     “I didn’t!” Merlin said defensively.

     “Good.” Gwen eyed him warily, before allowing her features to soften “I’ll finish it here. You go fix things with Lancelot.”

     Merlin grinned and was about to walk off, but suddenly a thought hit him. He turned around to Gwen, and allowed a bit of seriousness seep into his tone.

     “Speaking of talking to dollop heads, you should talk to Arthur. He’s been quiet ever since he met the -uh- stag.” Merlin made a face at the strangeness of referring to himself, “I think Arthur needs a sweet voice instead of _someone_ nagging him until he gets thrown in the stocks.”

     Gwen looked away in a way that Merlin knew she was covering a smile, but he didn’t know why Gwen would cover it. It was a beautiful thing, she radiated happiness like the new day sun peaking over the horizon. Arthur definitely needed her.

     Merlin walked to the training ground with a smile on his face as he imagined Gwen as _Queen_ Gwen.

     He paused as he saw Lancelot resting on a bench with his back to the forest. Merlin rolled his eyes as he saw Arthur shouting verbal abuse at his Knights. The Prince seemed to be particularly irritated that Gwaine looked half asleep as if he could fight the best Knights in the kingdom with his loud snores. Merlin giggled as Gwaine still managed to defeat Arthur even when one eye had failed to stay awake.

     All in all, Merlin couldn’t just walk up to Lancelot when Arthur was in a _mood_. He had to be sneaky. But how? The training field was a wide open space that Merlin couldn’t sneak across. The birds screeched overhead, and Merlin was hit with inspiration as he stared at the forest. Lancelot wasn’t that far from the forest line after all, and Merlin would get a chance to further hone his shapeshifting abilities.

     Lancelot startled as he felt something soft rub against his calf. He put down his waterskin, as he leaned over to look beneath his bench. His eyes widened as he saw a handsome red fox peering up at him with its beady blue eyes. The fox was crouched down low in the high grass, and rubbed its face against his leg again.

_Come on, Lance. Tell Arthur that I need help with herb picking or something._

      _Merlin?_

      _Yeah, just follow me, please?_

     Merlin swished his tail and crawled back into the cover of the trees. Lancelot sighed, and yelled his excuse to Arthur before turning around into the forest. Lancelot followed the bright red fur through the warm forest, he didn’t know where Merlin was taking him. The vegetation was steadily getting thicker, a sure sign that this was a more wild part of the forest. Suddenly the patch of red made a sharp left into a clearing.

_We’re here, this is out of the way so no one will see us._

     Lancelot slowed himself down from a trot to a leisure walk. He saw the fox sitting on a large suntanned rock through the trees. But his vision was then obscured by a particularly large tree. When Lancelot could see the clearing again, Merlin was back in his usual form and he was wearing a bright red shirt the same color as his fox fur.

     Merlin swung his legs playfully as Lancelot sat down next to him on another rock. He didn’t so much blink as a yellow flower plucked itself and made its home in Lancelot’s locks. He put down his sword and slumped in the familiarity of Merlin’s magic permeating the air.

     “Talk to me, Lancelot.” Merlin asked, “Something’s troubling you, isn’t?”

     “No, I’m fine Merlin.” Lancelot lied, he didn’t really want to burden his friend. He knew far too many things weighed on the man. He was surprised that Merlin’s shoulders didn’t have a permanent bow to it.

     “Liar.” Merlin said simply, no judgement coloring his tone.

     “Takes one to know one, I suppose.” Lancelot shot back, but immediately backed up as he registered his words.

     “Merlin, I didn’t mean---”

     “No, it’s okay Lancelot.” Merlin summoned flowers to his fidgeting fingers, “I know what you mean.”

     Lancelot felt a rock nudge his fingers, and he accepted the silent olive branch as he grasped it from the air.

     “It’s me, isn’t?” Merlin said quietly, “I’m what’s troubling you.”

     “Merlin.” Lancelot swallowed thickly as he stared at his rock, “It’s not you in particular, but it is your death that I worry about.”

     Merlin looked up wide eyed from his half finished flower crown, “My death?”

     “I know that you _think_ that you’re invincible with your magic, the Cup of the Life only proved that.” Lancelot rolled the rock between his palms, “But you’re gonna be killed with it.”

     “ _That_ would be a feat, killing myself with my own magic by mistake.” Merlin gave an uneasy laugh, trying to brush by the touchy subject.

     “Not like that,” Lancelot said, not one to be deterred, “It’s easy to pass by Uther’s laws if you’re just human, but if you keep shapeshifting into dragons, unicorns, or god knows what else!”

     Lancelot took in a shaky breath as he held the rock to his face like a little girl might do with their stuffed doll.

     “I won’t be able to protect you.” Lancelot confessed as he shut his eyes, lest they weep.

     His eyes flew open as he felt something heavy rest on his brow, and Merlin’s grinning face greeted him. The heavy fragrance of roses, daisies, sugar maples of his flower crown whiffed his nose, and the aroma made him drowsy with the thickness. He leaned heavily into Merlin’s welcoming arms, he didn’t care how invincible Merlin actually was, he would still protect his friend to his dying breath.

     “You’re a good man, Lancelot, and a good friend.” Merlin murmured, barely heard over the birdsong, “And I know what you’re thinking, it’s plain on your face.”

     Lancelot tightened his grip on Merlin’s shoulder.

     “I’d rather prefer that you didn’t die for me.” Merlin whispered, “Someone who knows about my magic is hard to come by, and I would miss you.”

     Lancelot suddenly felt immensely guilty, it was true. Merlin had no one aside from his mother and Gaius that knew about his magic, and there would be no one to help him if things got rough. He made a silent vow to himself that he would stay alive for as long as possible. Sacrificing himself would be his last resort.

     “I’ll stay alive for you, my friend.” Lancelot promised.

     “Pinky promise?” Merlin said cheekily as he sat next to Lancelot on the same rock.

     Lancelot solemnly held out his pinky and said in his best Knightly voice, “A true Knight of Camelot never breaks their pinky promises, it’s in the Knight Code.”

     Merlin grinned goofily and held his offered pinky, “Really?”

     “Yes, I should know since I’ve read them forwards and backwards.” Lancelot said haughtily, an almost perfect imitation of Prince Arthur.

     “Alright then, true Knight of Camelot.” Merlin nodded with a giggle, “You pinky promise to stay alive.”

     “For you.” Lancelot corrected.

     “For me.” Merlin said disbelievingly, as if such a swearing was meant for a King rather than for a servant.

     “I, Sir Lancelot, pinky promise.” Lancelot said seriously, but as both of their gazes met, they burst into uncontrollable giggles. It took them a few moments to regain their composure, and the heavy foreboding left the atmosphere. They pushed each other good naturedly to reassert that they were friends.

     Suddenly Merlin made a strange noise that was a mix of a cough and a painful yelp. His hands immediately went up to his mouth, and Lancelot couldn’t help but notice his friend’s sudden stillness. The atmosphere was again charged of a different kind of tension, taut with fear.

    “Merlin?” Lancelot questioned, and tried to lean over to see.

     Merlin turned his body away, his hands still over his mouth. Again, Lancelot didn’t understand why something was wrong, it was bit frustrating. His rock gift was set down carefully on the grass. Then, Lancelot stood up from his seat to stand in front of Merlin.     

     “Merlin, what is it?” Lancelot said softly as he put his own hands over Merlin’s, “Let me see it.”

     “No.” Merlin said with a slight lisp, but it could be Lancelot’s imagination since he could hardly hear him through his hands.

     “I’m your friend, you can trust me.” Lancelot insisted as he tugged gently.

     Merlin looked up at him with wide blue eyes, stunning with an innocence that Lancelot hadn’t seen since when he first met the man. His hands trembled as he pulled them to his lap, and Lancelot couldn’t help but gasp.

     “I don’t know what happened!” Merlin exclaimed, “I just felt so _happy_ and then…”

     Merlin’s long razor sharp teeth glinted in the soft sunlight, and two pairs of especially long ones top and bottom. Lancelot recognized the maw before him, for it was the same he had stared into when Ambrosius threatened to gnaw his face off.

     It was the jaws of a dragon.

     Lancelot winced at the small cuts on Merlin’s lips, since it kept getting caught on the pointed fangs. He looked up at Merlin for confirmation of a nod to check his gums, and Merlin allowed it. It was strange for teeth to be so long and filed down to a point in a matter of seconds, and it looked awfully intimidating.

     “So, what do you think?” Merlin asked nervously with a small tug of his lips, but then winced at the creation of a new cut.

     Lancelot was enthralled at Merlin’s tongue, the strangest yet, “Can you hold your tongue out for me, Merlin? It must be a trick of the light….” he trailed off.

     “Sure?” Merlin said as he tilted his head back for Lancelot to see better. He thanked his friend’s thoughtfulness in his mind, as he gently pried Merlin’s jaw further apart just to be sure. Lancelot’s lips thinned as his suspicions were confirmed, his tongue had become like a snake; forked.

     “Like staring into the maw of a beast.” Lancelot whispered as he admitted honestly, “I think it’s dragon by the looks of it. Forked tongue and all.”

     “You aren’t afraid of me?” Merlin said shocked as Lancelot looked at him the same as he always did.

     “Merlin.” Lancelot said simply with a smile, “If I can get used to you becoming a dragon and killing griffins, I don’t think anything will surprise me at this point.”

     “Okay.” Merlin said relieved, “Okay.”

 

+++

 

     The chains clanged as Merlin tested his restraints behind him, but they were iron and far too tight on his wrists for him to slip out. He ran his tongue over his fangs, and he had to chuckle darkly at the fright it gave the guards. Perhaps it came in whenever he was experiencing strong emotion, and boy did he _feel_ it. Merlin shifted to sit on his knees and bent so low at the hip that his nose lay flat on the cold stones of the cell.

 

     He had to take in a few shuddering breaths in and out, and hadn’t realized that he closed his eyes.

  
     They had his mother, and he had no idea on how he was going to escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [insert seal shouting 'GAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY' here]
> 
> okay okay jk, but seriously I ADORE lancelot and merlin's bromance
> 
> and the yellow flowers (all of them are yellow) symbolizes the color of friendship
> 
> also did ya know that yellow flowers were used to decorate lancelot's grave-boat in s4??
> 
> so merlin TOTALLY probably made lancelot yellow flower-crowns and stuff 
> 
> and rocks are a legit gift okay, flowers fricking die but rocks DON'T 
> 
> rocks can also look pretty and amazing so bOOM! 
> 
> and I'm sorry I'm so late with my update!!! I didn't realize how much Nanowrimo drained me, and I had bit of a family crisis over christmas jfc
> 
> so like I'm not _sure_ I'll have another update before New Year's but I _might_ but definitely don't hold ur breath since I thought this would be up wayyyyyyyyy sooner
> 
> also so like, at the end there with merlin being all chained up and whatever, that's a slight time jump ahead that's gonna be the climax of this fic and everything in the next chapter
> 
> yay!!!!
> 
> and then I guess I should release the next title of Part 5 in MSOW as an apology for being so late!!!
> 
> _"Unicorns and Other Magical Beasts"_
> 
> definitely gonna be some AMAZING tattoo action in there!!! Like a _lot_ of my _favorite_ tattoo headcanons is gonna be in it and oh gosh!!!! Yes!!!!!
> 
> *ahem* sorry spoilers :p


	6. Don't Underestimate the Power of Adorable Bunnies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin is right about everything as usual, so he totally doesn't deserve to be stabbed at. Well, at least it wasn't Arthur's fault this time that they were in a mess like this, but Merlin doesn't need to let the prince know that.
> 
> Unexpected visitors and adorable bunnies ahoy.

     “Why are we visiting some bloody noble, again?” Merlin whined to Arthur, the caravan of knights following them.

     “Because since father isn’t up for political visits, I have to take up the mantle of responsibility. This helps me prepare to be King as well.” Arthur replied with a huff that clearly said, _you wouldn’t understand Merlin._

     “Yeah I don’t argue with that, but you have to admit that the invitation was...odd.” Merlin told him with a small hope that his stag self’s words of wisdom stayed with Arthur.

     “Odd, what do you mean?” Arthur asked as he turned in the saddle to look at his manservant.

     “Like I don’t know, inviting your most trusted Knights along, and it mentioned to bring _me_ too! Usually it goes: you’re a Prince, so show up with whoever as long they’re not an embarrassment.” Merlin shot back, unease crawling up and down his spine.

     It was fishy, that’s what it was.

     “Lord Behermir could be just,” Arthur struggled for words, “considerate?”

     Merlin snorted, considerate his _ass._ There were a million other adjectives to describe the Lord, if things so predictably went sideways.

     Treasonous.

     Possibly back-stabbing.

     Morgana’s and Morgause’s affiliate.

     Greedy, if Merlin was lucky.

     Merlin was more nervous than usual, since Gwen came with them  because she insisted that she wanted to help out the best she could. Gwen was hard pressed to find a stable job since she could no longer be servant to Lady Morgana, so she had been doing odd jobs all over the castle. And it was a problem that she didn’t wear armor like the Knights, where he could easily chant protection spells over them and carve strengthening runes as well. He would have to pull Gwen aside to discuss on how he could protect her, maybe a charm necklace?

     “There it is.” Leon pointed to the grey castle that could be seen just around the bend in the road.

     Arthur looked at him from the corner of his eyes, and then straightened in his seat to appear regal as they approached the gates. Merlin had a bad feeling about this, all of the Knights of the Round Table were invited, and Merlin, as well as the future King of Albion. And the noble gave a vague explanation about strengthening relations with Camelot, despite they were already on Camelot’s borders.

     “Halt!” a guard shouted from above, “Who goes there?”

     “Prince Arthur of Camelot, me and my men were invited to stay here for the next few nights?” Arthur shouted back.

     “Prince Arthur, eh?” the guard gave a nasal laugh before shouting Arthur’s arrival to the rest of the guards. The gates opened to reveal Lord Behermir, a pot-belly man draped in finery, and his guards behind him.

     Arthur and everyone else dismounted their horses as protocol, and the prince walked closer to the Lord to greet him outside the gates.

     “Good morn to you, Lord Behermir.” Arthur said with a hand out for him to shake, a polite smile graced his features.

     The Lord looked the prince up and down from his hooked nose, and then looked at the rest of Arthur’s company.

     “Seize them.” Lord Behermir sneered.

     “What is the meaning of this?” Arthur shouted angrily as each guard took hold of everyone, quickly disarming them in their surprise. Arthur managed to twist around in the guards’ grips to look at Merlin, and gave another growl at Merlin’s smug grin, _I told you so._

     Suddenly there was the sound of horses quickly galloping toward them from around the bend from behind.

     “Ah, just on time.” Behermir grinned as the horses came to a stop in front of them.

     “Merlin!” Hunith cried in shock from her place on one of the horses, hands tied around its neck and her face peppered with bruises.

     “Mum?” Merlin said shocked, and then struggled angrily to no avail, “Why do you have her!”

     “Well, I’ll explain it in a few moments.” Lord Behermir sniffed in disdain as the guards cut her down and pulled her away on the opposite side of the road from Merlin.

     “This was a trap!” Arthur accused in disbelief.

     “Yes, what made you think of that idea?” the lord mocked, “This here, is a very special castle.”

     Lord Behermir turned around and gestured dramatically to the castle walls towering over them.

     “I had the help of sorcerers to help prepare it for your arrival, and I have invited all of your merry band to essentially kill all the birds with one stone.” Lord Behermir stretched his lips over his teeth in an unsettling grin as he looked back at his angry hostages. Merlin stiffened as the Lord’s gaze lingered over him for a few moments, before looking back to Arthur.

     “Sorcery!” Arthur growled, “What did you do?”

     “Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Lord Behermir nodded to Arthur’s guards, and they marched closer to the castle’s gates, the mark of the castle’s territory.

     Merlin watched Arthur fearfully, would it kill him the moment he passed through it? Send him into agonizing pain? Transform him into something harmless or rob him of his wits?

     Arthur struggled valiantly but more guards fixed that problem soon enough, and they were just dragging him through the gate, and out on the other side.

     “Arthur? What….” Igraine trailed off as she saw her son beaten and bruised in the grip of so many guards. She growled in indignation as a guard gripped her tightly by the arm and pulled her away. Once a queen, always a queen.

     “Mother?” Arthur gasped, she looked the same as she did a year ago and she was still dressed for a banquet like she did when she saved his father from that dragon.

     “What mockery is this?” Arthur turned to the Lord, angry unshed tears shined his eyes brightly from his forced kneel on the ground.

     “This spell turns your deceased ancestors, most commonly one of your dead parents, into flesh and blood on cleansed ground.” Lord Behermir pointed to Igraine, and a guard slapped her hard across the face as Arthur roared in anger. Igraine’s mouth was open in a small ‘o’ in surprise, and touched the red mark on her cheek in shock.

     “When you’re alive again, for all intents and purposes, pain is a real bitch isn’t it, Queen Igraine?” Lord Behermir then gasped mockingly, “Oh forgive me for my coarse language, my lady!”

     “This is wrong!” Merlin shouted, “It goes against the life for a life law in the Old Religion, how can this be so?”

     “Well, she’s still got a foot half in the grave, despite being alive, and once you guys are inside, you’ll see what was the price of this spell to maintain balance.” Lord Behermir laughed as he drug the other struggling Knights through the gates.

     “And I had to bring your whore of a mother here, since your father is either clearly alive or squirreled away so far into the Spirit World where the spell can’t reach.” the lord paused, “Likely he’s in Hell!”

     Merlin recoiled as if slapped, “He’s not in Hell!”

     “Yes he is, or are you expecting that he’s gone to some other afterlife?” Behermir stared daringly, and Merlin had to bite his tongue from exclaiming Avalon. It was the afterlife for sorcerers, particularly powerful ones, and if Merlin suspected the Lord _knew_ that he was what he actually was. Gods above, Merlin would be lucky yet again to escape with his secret intact.

     “Father?” Leon gasped at a man with similar curly red hair, and looked to be extremely confused as well. Leon’s father was pulled away next to Igraine, much to both of their indignation that they couldn’t hug their children.

     Elyan was the last Knight to walk through the gates, leaving behind Merlin, Hunith, and Gwen with Lord Behermir. The Knight gaped at Tom, their father, and there was a cry from next to Merlin. Gwen managed to slip away from the guard’s grip with her tiny wrist, and she was blur as she jumped into a hug with her father. They were quickly pried apart, Tom with the other angry parents on one side of the courtyard, and their children on the other side. Hunith and Merlin walked together through the gates following behind Lord Behermir, and something occurred to Merlin.

     “Why aren’t we seeing _your_ father or mother, my lord?” Merlin bit out the proper address as if it was poison, “Or any of the guards?”

     “Why, the spell was specifically in liquid form in order for it to work, so we spiked your broth last night, with none the wiser.” Lord Behermir crowed, proud of his victory.

     Damn, he knew the broth he made was too spicy for some reason.

     Hunith gave an irritated huff as she was led to the other parents, and they were all escorted into the castle.

     They suddenly understood the earlier words of warning, for the air was stale and had an unmistakeable sense of dread. The stones were full of rot and decay, and the shadows too long despite the newday sun outside for it to be natural. Perhaps the Lord had sacrificed the well-being of his castle to bring back six lives from the dead. Igraine shivered as she saw a disembodied stone hand on the floor, curled into a loose fist, obviously from some poor statue somewhere.

     “Put them into the dungeons.” the Lord commanded as they stopped in front of a dark staircase that led down. “Wait, leave the servant and the wrench with me, I have other plans for them.”

     Merlin could see his friends’ worried looks at the three of them as they were forcefully pushed down to the cells. Hunith took the opportunity to push away from her guard to be close to her son’s side, and both of them simultaneously checked each other for wounds. Merlin struggled to swallow the clawing anger in his throat as he saw the fresh bruises on her face, darker in the lower light.

     “Emrys, rumors are that the air-headed prince downstairs is your Once and Future King _whatever,_ well I simply disagree.” Lord Behermir said a little more respectfully than before, but he still spoke with perpetual disdain, “I’ll _take_ that title, I’ll make it mine no matter how much it takes.”

     “What?” Merlin said in disbelief at the sheer _stupidity_ of the notion.

     “You want to make my son a _weapon_?” Hunith growled, a dangerous glint in her eyes, “I will simply not let that happen.”

     “You and what army?” Behermir snapped back and interrupted her retort quickly, “You think your son here will help you?”

     Lord Behermir gestured to the guards next to Merlin and Hunith, and they nodded to some unspoken command. Merlin was distracted by a sudden _shing_ and the next thing he knew was that a sword was under his mother’s neck. His magic churned angrily and he was about to let go of it when he felt a cold click on his wrists. Merlin stumbled to his knees in pain, his magic suddenly muted and was unable to escape his grasp.

     “Merlin!” Hunith shouted, and the sword was sheathed to the approving nod of Behermir. She quickly held her son’s face in her hands, and she felt righteous anger swell up as she saw her son’s fear in his eyes. She knew her little boy couldn’t stay in those cuffs for very long, she hoped dearly it was just dampening ones and not the powerful ones that silenced magic altogether. Either way, it was a matter of how long her boy had before the cuffs killed him if they were never taken off.

     “Separate them, put his mother with the others and Emrys in the furthest cell that you can find.” Behermir towered over the warlock’s pained form, “Your friends and their family are my hostages, and if you don’t do what I say, they will be killed off one by one as their parents watch. Funny thing about this spell, is that you can’t kill ghosts twice, but they can be tortured within these walls. And another thing, your mother will be the last to be killed if you refuse to obey.”

     Lord Behermir cackled, “Don’t say I’m not merciful.”

     “Take them away.” Lord Behermir said as he turned around and walked away.

     “No! My son!” Hunith shouted angrily as they drug her away to the others, and Merlin was pulled by his arms further down the staircase to the deepest and darkest cell available.

     Hunith managed to land a punch to one of the guards as they pushed her into the large cell housing all of them, she didn’t even feel the retributing punch she got in return

     “Wretch!” the guard spat, and then shut the door with a loud clang.

     She was helped back on her feet by Igraine, Arthur’s mother by the looks of her.

     “Hello…..” Igraine trailed off as she looked at her in expectation.

     “Hunith, I’m Merlin’s mother.” she greeted warmly, “It’s nice to meet the mother of one my son’s best friends, my lady.”

     “Oh, I’m not a queen anymore, so you can just call me Igraine.” Igraine smiled, “I think it’s time we all introduce ourselves since we might be here a time.”

     “Oh I know half of them just from Merlin’s letters, I can at least attempt to introduce them all to you Igraine.” Hunith smiled, but then winced because of her bruises.

     “See the dastardly handsome one, that’s Gwaine.” Hunith pointed to the man that winked at both of them, “And I think that’s his father.”

     The man had similar black locks that looked groomed from any angle, but his face was scarred and wore the battered armor of a Knight.

     He winked too.

     Igraine and Hunith giggled, “And the particularly tall one is Percival, and his mother is half his height, oh my goodness.” Hunith said as she held out a hand to the mother in greeting.

     “My name is Dindrane, I’m glad to see my sweet boy has so many friends.” she patted both of their hands, and she joined the group of mothers.

     “See the two of them there, I’ve met her before, Gwen, and her brother Elyan. And that’s her father Tom, we almost met actually.” Hunith waved to her small family, and Gwen waved back before continuing their hushed arguments among themselves.

     “That’s Lancelot, one of the nicest men I’ve ever heard about, oh bless him.” Hunith smiled, he was one the few that knew of Merlin’s _ability_ , “And that his mother.”

     “Elaine, nice to meet you ladies.” she greeted, her black short hair curly as they come, “Hunith, so nice to finally meet you, I’ve watched over my son and I know that _your_ son is bad company.”

     The titters of the mothers around her stopped, and Hunith’s eyes narrowed as she stared at Elaine’s shuttered eyes. Lancelot tried to move closer to his mother, but looked torn on whether to defend his mother or Merlin. Such a nice boy.

     “And I approve!” Elaine cackled, she slapped her knee and slipped an elbow around Hunith’s neck, “I know my son is too good, he gets it from his father---bless his soul---but your son has finally managed to get my little Knight live life a little and know when to break the rules. That’s why I never bothered to tell him about the nobility cause, how could I? You should’ve seen him, he was missing two teeth and kept lisping over his ‘w’s.”

     “Mother!” Lancelot hissed, as he looked to the other Knight’s grinning faces, “Please stop?”

     “Oh, my son was the same, but he lisped over his ‘s’s.” Hunith said back, much to Elaine’s glee.

     Igraine noticed that her son was also looking happy, Merlin must be like a brother to him, since she perfectly knew the look of getting good blackmail from her own brother.

     “Speaking of young sons,” Igraine grinned, she never did get a chance to gush, “Arthur was one of the fattest babies you ever seen, the maidservants kept feeding him sweets since he kept using his baby blues to woo them. I was definitely getting worried that the tailor had to visit once a week to keep fitting him new clothes. Oh my lord, was I glad that my husband started to make him a Knight at a much earlier age than planned!”

     Everyone laughed, save for Arthur’s bright beet red face of embarrassment. However, much to her surprise, Arthur never spoke up for his mother to stop. Perhaps he felt the same, that he never had a mother to embarrass him in front of his friends.

     “Oh and I almost forgot, there’s Leon and his father.” Hunith pointed to two regal looking men, Leon smiled and waved politely, but his father grinned widely and rubbed his son’s head in a quick headlock. Much to Leon’s consternation, and squealed as his father laughed, the kind that boomed like a warm hearth.

     “Oi!” the guards called from their posts, “Lower it down!”

     “Such rudeness.” Dindrane sighed in disappointment.

     Hunith walked to the bars and rested her face against the bars, and looked forlorn and her jaw was tense, as she looked beyond to the hallway. Igraine felt an instinct to comfort this peasant woman, and it hit her that Merlin wasn’t here.

     “Where’s Merlin?” Arthur asked as he walked toward Hunith, worry creased deeply into his features.

     Hunith’s grips on the bars tightened, but nothing else changed and she was hard to read, much to Arthur’s dismay.

     “My son is, “ Hunith’s voice smoothed to a neutral tone, “being tortured as we speak. Since he is manservant to the prince, he contains valuable information of Camelot’s inner workings. A servant is easier to break than a prince, or even a knight.”

     It was like all of the air was sucked right of the cell, and the mothers immediately rushed to comfort one of their own. Arthur stepped away in horror, and the men looked similarly grim. Gwen hugged Hunith, and she whispered that _everything was going to be okay, Merlin is a survivor, it’ll be fine._

     Hunith was much more hardened than these women, yes they had their own life experience and hardships as peasants, but having a magical son aged her like none other. If she had to share her son’s secret with any of the parents here, it would either be Igraine or Elaine. They seemed like they wouldn’t condemn her son.

     Suddenly a ring of shouts and screams of alarm came from down the hallway, and their posted guards were also concerned at the sudden noise.

     “What is happening?” one of the guards shouted, and one of them stilled mid-stride to the stairs that led upwards.

     “We need more chains!” the guard shouted back, looking very much panicked as he continued to run. The other panicked looking guards went upstairs as well, and the other half stayed behind and collected long spears with mean looking hooks on the end. The now armed guards screamed a valiant cry as they rushed back downstairs.

     “Uhm….” Leon said, pretty much speaking what was on all of their minds at the moment.

     “Your son is a fighter, isn’t he?” Elaine gave a forced grin, and punched Hunith’s arm good naturedly.

     A few minutes passed, and the guards that went upstairs finally came back with loud thuds on the steps.

     They returned with numerous swords, crossbows, nets, long _long_ chains, and were pretty much armed to the _teeth_. The guard that spoke to them was overloaded with medicine bags, and didn’t seem to mind the sweat that beaded from his brow from under all the weight. They also gave a battle cry as they rushed downstairs, but one yell seemed to echo higher than the others.

     “I don’t care what boss says! We’re killing him before he kills us!”

     “What the hell is bloody happening?” Arthur cried in disbelief, “This seems like no torture method I’ve ever heard of!”

     Suddenly an explosion boomed from the bowels of the castle, and the foundation wobbled worryingly. Screams echoed from down the hallway, before all became eerily silent. A few moments passed, and a lone guard hobbled from up the stairs, and ignored the stunned looks from everyone. The lone guard was streaked in blood and grime, and Hunith could see underneath it was the same guard who had carried all of the medicine bags earlier. He just kept walking up into the main castle corridors, and walked off until his uneven footsteps could no longer be heard.

+++

     They all sat in a circle on the cold cell floor. All next to their respective parents, and it had been uneventful for the past few hours. The lone guard hadn’t returned nor had the rest of the guards still in the lower dungeons. The foundation still groaned from time to time, they weren’t sure if it was from the spell’s curse on the castle, or for some other reason.

     “Arthur,” Igraine started quietly, but she glanced to the others carefully, “When I told you the stuff about your father.”

     Arthur straightened, and immediately turned his body to face his mother, his face was caught between guarded and hopeful.

     “I was very pleased with Merlin that day,” Igraine admitted, “And not very much with you.”

     “What?” Arthur said, expression crumpled in shock and pain.

     “Everything I told you, was true.” Igraine clutched her son by the arms, “Morgause herself did not know either, she was genuinely trying to help open your eyes to the good of magic.”

     “But why are you pleased with Merlin?” Arthur asked with clear confusion, “He…. _lied_ to me! ”

     “He was wise, you would’ve torn yourself and Camelot apart.” Igraine hushed her son’s denying mumbles, “Don’t you remember what I said?”

     At this point, their audience was politely looking away from the sensitive and private scene. The parents hugged their children, suddenly reminded of their own stolen mortality. Hunith had no one to hug, so she simply slumped herself against the bars in the hopes she would be closer to her own son, even it was by a few fingernails.

     Igraine gave a sad smile, “Don’t let the knowledge change you.”

     Arthur reeled in shock, how had he forgotten?

     “But what do you want me to do?” Arthur asked in despair, “Uther isn’t himself most days, and he cannot no longer defend himself.”

     “Arthur.” Igraine pulled her son into a warm hug, no longer cold like her ghost was, “He was long unarmed, even before the Great Purge. You cannot fight a man who has no wits, it wouldn’t be a fair battle, would it?”  

     Arthur stiffened at how his mother spoke bitterly of her husband, “I thought you had a good marriage, the two of you?”

     “How much older is Morgana?” Igraine simply asked, no anger colored her tone, only sadness.

     “Almost two years,” Arthur’s eyes widened as he recalled that she was his half-sister, after all. He felt bile attempt to crawl up his throat as he suddenly pieced it all together; they must’ve knew that the problem lied with Igraine if Uther had no problem fathering children. And his father must’ve been desperate if his firstborn was not only illegitimate, but a girl at that.

     The rest was history.

     “You are my son, and I love you.” Igraine said fondly, “And I know Uther does too, he has done the best he could. I can see the anger and betrayal imbuing your heart, I know it’s hard, but you need to let forgiveness and love back into it.”

     “How can I?” Arthur shook his head, his hair covering his eyes, “After all he’s done?”

     “Arthur.” Igraine started, but she was cut off.

     “What _I’ve_ done.” Arthur stared at his hands, “The law changes for no man, he’s said that over and over, but yet.”

     “Make your own beliefs, Arthur, I can’t interfere with destiny.” Igraine huffed with a secret smile, “I value higher a son who makes his own thoughts, and I will support you whatever you decide to do. I would be biased if I gave my opinion, and I want you reach your conclusions by your own terms.”

     Suddenly, footsteps echoed from the stairway that lead to the rest of the castle, the same familiar shuffle-thump. It was the lone guard, and everyone stood up, even their posted guards stood up at attention.

     The lone guard hobbled close to the cell, and there was fresh slice that marred his grimy cheek that looked like it came from a dagger. The mothers immediately felt pity, there was just something about this young man that made them inclined to shelter him. Perhaps it was his soulful eyes that saw too much but still held a glint of innocence, or his beaten exterior. Like he needed a good scrub in a warm bath and a bowl of soup.

     “Miss,” the lone guard asked politely but sternly, “Lord Behermir wishes to speak with you in the throne room.”

     “Me?” Hunith said, and gave no protest as the posted guards pulled her out of the cell roughly, much to the anger of the other cell’s residents.

     Actually, this helped her quite a lot.

     Hunith contorted her face into despair as a guard pulled her away to meet with the Lord. She knew for a fact that Balinor didn’t have a sneaky or sly bone in his body. He was as subtle as you would expect from a man who was kin to dragons. It was endearing, but the point was that Merlin learned the deceitful arts from her, down to the last facial movement.

     They would all escape from the Lord’s clutches, she had overthrew a few of them in her youth when her son was still a wee babe. It had been a while, but it was like knitting, picking up the needle on where one left off. Right?

     Hunith would bring a kingdom to its knees if it meant her son would go free.

+++

_A Few Hours Earlier…_

     Merlin looked at the stone floor down from his nose, his fangs was a bit troublesome. Dragon fangs, who knew? Then he squinted as a thought drifted into his mind, soft and indistinct as the morning mist. If he assumed that his fangs came to be because of magic, _but_ if he was wearing magic dampening cuffs…...then how much leeway did he have?

     Merlin ran another examination with his forked tongue over his teeth, curiosity peaked now. The warlock relaxed as a plan took shape in his mind, and leisurely sat up against the cell wall with his legs out, no longer folded beneath him. He was situated in a large cell that had three stone walls but the fourth was entirely covered with bars from ceiling to floor. It was at the end of a long hallway that had a pair of guards posted across from each other every few paces.

     The point was that Merlin had a good vantage point, and it didn’t escape his notice that despite the excessive security, there were two guards at the door with his backs to him. And two more at the exit pretty far away at the end of the hallway.

     There was nowhere to hide, no other cells or doorways.

     Just him and the guards, who looked slightly nervous under their helmets. Perhaps, Lord Behermir told them of the prophecies that Emrys was the most powerful sorcerer ever to live? It was a nice change in the routine to be feared, but he lost the advantage of being underestimated. Also, fear wasn’t a response he liked either.

     Merlin’s plan was crisp in his mind’s eye, but he needed to test a few things to be sure that his theory was correct. Or otherwise it wouldn’t work at all.

     “Forbeane.” Merlin murmured the command to a sole strand of straw in front of him, and immediately felt a stab of pain behind his eye sockets. The straw was expectedly fire free, so it confirmed to him his magic couldn't escape the confines of his skin. Usually that was a bad thing.

     However, he’s had bit of practice messing about with his skin in the past month or two. So, Merlin had a few tricks up his sleeve, and the warlock was glad that the cell was so large and long, enough to fit the prince’s chambers in here!

     “Hey, you!” Merlin shouted to the guards, the ones that guarded his cell door.

     “What?” the annoyed guards turned around, attracting the other guards’ attention down the hallway.

     “Have you ever heard about that story about lions and cages?” Merlin sang playfully, “Do you need a reminder?”

     The next thought he had was that having four legs was definitely weird, no matter times he did it. Merlin growled, but then stopped as he realized the chains around his wrists and ankles was tighter than what was comfortable. Right, he forgot about that.

     The chains clanged to the ground as Merlin shook them off, a wolf’s legs was smaller than a human or a lion’s. Some of the guards had the foresight at what problems a shapeshifting warlock might cause, and ran screaming upstairs about better chains and weapons. He ran with his front paws up at the bars, spit dribbling down from a returned lion’s maw.

     Merlin narrowed his feline eyes, the **iron** bars were too close together for even a fox to squeeze through. He paced the length of his cell, magic dampening cuffs forgotten, deep in concentration. In his pacing, he shifted without thinking as his mind went through the options of what animals he could be.

     There was only five guards left in the hall, the rest of the guards were too busy being proactive and collecting needed provisions. They shook under the armor as they watched the lion shift to wolf, fox, a disgruntled mule, and a horse at one point. Then it shifted down to smaller animals such as a dog, cat, raccoon, until it settled on a tiny fluffy harmless black bunny with the pinkest nose one ever seen.

     It sniffed the air adorably, and did a shuffle-hop to the iron bars, but stopped. The guards felt their cold hearts grow bigger as the bunny’s blue eyes looked up at them so wide and _innocent_. Suddenly, their comrades returned loudly with long spears with hooks, and faces grim as if prepared for a long battle.

     “No!” one of the guards, Tim probably, “Don’t hurt the little bunny!”

     The other four guards that had stayed with the warlock the entire time also made similar protests, with _but it’s so cute_ as a valid reason that they shouldn’t stab it brutally.

     “Have you all gone mad?” the captain guard shouted, and then gestured toward the ball of black fluff with his spear, “You all heard the boss’ warnings, it is a well-honed killing machine and it has no remorse.”

     The other guards who had the nasty looking spears started to look doubtful as they saw the bunny rub its droopy ears with one of its back paws.

     “I’m not so sure, sire.” Benjamin spoke up, “I mean, just look how wide its eyes are, only harmless creatures are so…... _adorable._ ”

     The captain slapped Benjamin rightfully over the head, “That’s the most foul, cruel, and bad-tempered rodent you ever set eyes on!”

     “May I suggest something sire?” the captain's second in command, Matthew, said, “To get over your _irrational_ fear of the bunny rabbit, you must pet it.”

     The captain’s eyes narrowed as the bunny just crinkled it’s cute button nose up at him, weak and feeble for all to see.

 **LIES** **_!_ **

     “Benjamin boy,” the captain ordered with a snarl, “if you’re so keen to believe that the bunny, who is _Emrys,_ is harmless and sweet. Then you pet it yourself!”

     Benjamin looked at the bunny, and he gave a weak grin as it let its eyes grow bigger than anyone thought possible. The captain was right, the bunny was Emrys, no matter how big its eyes got. The beautiful blue eyes seemed to take up even more of its face, increasing its adorableness by the minute, and Benjamin felt his steely resolve crumble.

     He kneeled as he got close to the bars of the cell, cooing and making baby noises to the black ball of fluff.

     Its ears was just so….. _pink_ and big, and floppy.

     The fur looked so soft, just _begging_ to be run through with a hand.

     Irresistible, lovely, cuddly, just positively bewitching all in all.

     He dropped his spear to the hallway floor as he held out an arm through the iron bars, and clicked his tongue encouragingly to come closer. The bunny looked up at him shyly as it came closer, and tentatively stopped before the open palm.

     Benjamin turned around to look at the captain and the rest of the guards, his back to the bunny.

     “See, captain?” Benjamin laughed, “I told you so!”

     Suddenly the bunny hissed, and all of their attention immediately went back to the small animal. The bunny used the outstretched arm to hop up directly _out_ the cell, escaping its magical confines.

     They didn’t even have a chance to scream in terror as its cute buck-teeth transformed to similar to a dragon, and eyes gone dark with murder. It leaped at the captain’s neck and tore his vocal chords out.

     Merlin spat out the chewed flesh onto the ground, okay, that was bit of overkill. Ambrosius sometimes overreacted a bit. The warlock pushed against the captain’s chest with his tiny bunny paws and gracefully transitioned to a grey ram with large curled horns. He didn’t even think too much about what animals he was turning into, he just let it be.

     Merlin huffed through his nostrils threateningly, and tapped one of his back hooves as the guards shakingly pointed their spears at him.

     That’s when the rest of the guards showed up, and everyone was here ready to fight except the dead captain lying on the floor. Merlin growled louder as he saw that the guards came prepared with various weapons and wisely medicine bags, as well. One of the more armed guards shot a crossbow directly at him, the _twang_ was the only warning he got.

     The guards shouted in frustration as Merlin reared back and transitioned to a flying blue-black merlin. The warlock screeched in smugness as the bolt completely missed. Being a bird definitely was fun, and Ambrosius was definitely excited somewhere in his tiny bird ribcage. Then he felt something heavy wrap around him and net covered his vision, and he had to grudgingly change shapes again.

     “Bear!” the guards shouted as they readied their swords and spears, “BEAR!”

     The bear roared, and quickly fell five guards in one meaty swipe. Merlin gave another guttural roar again as he wondered which of the guards had struck his mother. He gave a surprised yelp as he felt swords stab him in the arms and in the stomach. But his bear self was rather the opposite of himself and had too much fat so the wounds were inconsequential. Lots of padding, this form had.

     Anyways, he had enough of being stabbed.

     The guards stepped back slowly and most of stumbled back onto their haunches in sheer horror.

     Ambrosius snarled and hissed, fangs glinting in the lowlight of the torches mounted on the walls. However, unlike last time, Merlin had more control over Ambrosius. It was still _himself_ after all. Merlin swiped his tail against the front row of guards, and another ten fell crumpled to the ground. They were for the most part, passed out, not dead. Hopefully.

     “Get down, men!” a guard shouted as he threw a smoking _something_ and they all scrambled back towards the end of the hallway. Merlin tilted his large head at the small smoking ball, he had seen a handful of these in the armory back in Camelot. What’s more, Arthur insisted they were for all intents and purposes, useless, because the supply was so short. He never saw what they could do.

     Suddenly the world went white, and his ears rang painfully through his head. Ambrosius stumbled drunkenly, and instead of spewing fire, the stream was clear and magical in nature. The guards had no idea of what spell the dragon had thrown in their direction, but escape was the best option nonetheless.

     They all ran towards the entrance, Benjamin at the front of the stampede. As he turned around to see the speed of the spell chasing them, the guards that were overtaken by it immediately fell asleep. Benjamin turned around and pumped his legs as fast he could in the long hallway. The loud snores behind him was motivation enough.

     The guard’s helmet fell off in the sprint without him meaning to, which caused several of his comrades to trip over it. The increase of snores spoke clearly of their fate. Benjamin threw himself through the doorway, and grunted in pain as his head bumped on the wall across from it.

     He panted heavily and breathed a sigh of relief that the spell had stopped at the doorway. However, he was distressed that he was the only one who had made it. Everyone was asleep, and he wasn’t sure that some of them still held life. It was a brutal battle and casualties was to be expected.  

     Benjamin tried to get up, but immediately fell down again. He squinted in confusion, and gasped as he saw from his left knee downwards was over the threshold of the doorway. His leg had fallen asleep! Not one to be defeated, he stood up on trembling legs, greatly favoring his right one. Benjamin leaned against the opposite wall, and he was glad yet again that his comrades were waking up and getting back on their feet.

     One of the closest guards stepped close to the shimmering barrier, and his face contorted into one of agonizing pain as he poked it with a finger.

     “Hey, are you alright Tim?” Benjamin asked concerned.

     Tim squinted and then gestured to his ear, _speak louder I can’t hear you._

     “Are you alright!” Benjamin shouted a little louder, was Tim deaf as well as dumb?

     Tim shook his head in confusion, and seemed to yell back _What!_ but Benjamin could only hear the beatings of his own heart in the silent corridor.

     “It’s sorcery!” Benjamin screamed, “ _SORCERY!”_

     Tim shrugged, _sorry,_ and then turned around to talk to the other guards about the force field and the silencing barrier. Benjamin sighed, looks like there was no avoiding it, they had to inform Lord Behermir. The young guard saw behind the befuddled group of guards and was immensely glad that the dragon had slipped back into his true form, the skinny warlock who had a dangerous air about him.

     Oh, he was dangerous alright.

     Benjamin shuddered as he realized the bunny had enchanted him so thoroughly just with those _ador---_ stop!

     Hopefully his comrades would take this opportunity of the warlock’s vulnerability to extract a measure of revenge onto him. They did still have all of those weapons they took inside, and it was just a matter of dragging him back into his cell and relock him into those cuffs. No doubt they would practically wrap him in the new chains from head to tail, heh, and perhaps the bastard wouldn’t escape this time.

     Lord Behermir would need to be informed, _now_.

+++

     Hunith crashed to her knees before the Lord, with the lone-guard and some other guard at her sides. How many guards did this man have? It was getting a bit ridiculous at this point, but she was thankful that there were only three other people in the room beside her.

     “I got word that your son is being problematic.” Lord Behermir said in disdain, “I decided to start torturing my hostages, but.”

     Lord Behermir squirmed in his cushy seat, and the guards next to her shuffled in obvious embarrassment.

     “Well what is it?” Hunith asked with a straight face, “What’s stopping you from torturing us?”

     “Your son took practically took the entire guard battalion as hostage.” Lord Behermir said sullenly, “And there isn’t enough guards left to guard me and your cell while a few gets to torture you, all at the same time.”

     “Oh, that’s inconvenient.” Hunith said as she fiddled with the hem on her dress, she eyed the two guards next to her calculatingly.

     One was the lone survivor, he had an obvious limp and looked practically ready to drop. The other guard looked more alert but younger, perhaps inexperienced. Hunith glanced up at the lord, he was too comfortable in that chair to even move quickly. However, the greedy Lord had a set of keys to the dungeons by his meaty hip, priority number one.

     First and foremost, she was a mother, and she promised she would try her best not to hurt the guards too severely. She felt sympathy for whoever their mothers were, her own son was a fighter. So, Hunith knew what it was like expecting bad news back home, and she stared down at the floor as she tried to swallow the lump of loneliness.

     “Sorry.” Hunith said with a sad smile as she looked back up at the lord.

     “For what?” the Lord spat, “For your demonic hellspawn?”

     Hunith’s eyes narrowed.

     “For this!” she yelled as she unsheathed the guard-with-a-limp’s sword, and faced them on threateningly. The limping guard took out a short dagger, and the other guard faced her with a sword of his own. However, the fresher guard hesitated at hurting such a small woman. Underestimation was a powerful tool that she made sure her son was always well equipped with, as well as common sense.

     Lord Behermir quivered in his seat, he had the foolish notion that he wouldn’t need a weapon on him. At least, not with so many guards surrounding him at all times, but now he was rather nervous with just two protecting him. More accurately, one and a half at best.

     She slashed at the limping guard in his bum leg, and he went down with a scream. He wouldn’t die, not for a while at least. All the same, Hunith winced in sympathy. Her sword wobbled as she faced down the guard, younger and more agile than her.

     The clang of metal echoed in the room, and she held up valiantly against him. She finally fell the guard with a gash through his sword arm, and it was easy disarming him from there. The two guards on the ground squirmed beneath her thunderous expression, but she walked over them without finishing them off. A mother’s mercy.

     She stormed to the Lord’s place on his throne, shaking in the face of a mother’s righteous wrath. He yelped as she leaned her bloody sword against his thick throat, her face close as she dared. Gods, the man really should brush his teeth every once in awhile.

     “Where did you learn about Merlin’s druidic name?” she said dangerously.

     “I-I don’t k-k-know!” the man blubbered.

     Coward.

     She pressed her sword deeper into his skin, toeing the limit on far she could go without cutting it.

     “Please.” she said softly, “Just tell me.”

     Lord Behermir was startled to hear the heartfelt kindness in her voice, despite imprisoning her son, she was still merciful to _him._

     “I…..I had the idea to become more powerful than any other man known.” the Lord gulped, “I knew I didn’t have any magic in me, but an army is a good substitute. And then I heard rumors about the most powerful man in existence, by the name of Emrys. I had my guards _persuade_ a Druid on who exactly it was, and…..you know the rest!”

     Hunith sighed, and relaxed her press against the Lord’s throat. She took away the keys with a quick yank. She tucked them into her bosom, they were reliable pockets and almost no one would dare to steal them. The woman turned around and started walking away to release her fellow prisoners and her son.

     Suddenly she felt a meaty grip on her wrist, and she whirled around in surprise. Hunith yelped as she fell to the stones from the force of the punch. More bruises on top of bruises, causing her face to pulse in agony. She swung her sword up and cut through the air with a sharp whistle in threat.

     Lord Behermir stumbled back to avoid the deadly swipes, and started to move toward the guard that had a limp. Gods, she had forgot to kick his sword out of reach! Hunith stood back up, but it was too late. The lord laughed nastily as he waved his sword around tauntingly. She made the first move by swinging down at his ankles but he was strangely agile for a man of his size.

     Hunith and the Lord danced across the throne room, the man never letting her get any closer to the exit. Hunith growled in frustration, her son could be getting hurt at this very moment! She gave a yell as she made a final swipe through the man’s guts, left open by the Lord’s surprise at her shout.

     The man crumpled to the ground, hands clutching his open guts in futility. Hunith’s grip on her sword tightened, she had meant to let Lord Behermir live. He was supposed to lie down without a fight, or at least long enough for her to escape and for him to regain his wits. Hunith shook her head, _she_ needed to keep her wits about her. One less person who knew about her son’s dangerous name.

     Hunith turned to the fallen guards, they were still alive but had no inclinations to fight her. She stepped toward them menacingly, and both of them flinched.

     “If you _ever_ tell anyone about my son’s name, other than the one I gave him, then you have _me_ to answer to!” she told them in the same angry voice when her son pranked Old Man Simmons with Will.

     She turned back around to the gasping Lord, and forced herself to watch as she finished with a thrust through his heart. It was a mercy, rather he died instantly than die slowly. It never got any easier, and she hoped that for her son it was the same.

+++

     Hunith glanced around the corner, the two guards were still at their cell’s door. However, the guards were too far away for the cell’s occupants to grab. And it would be pointless since those guards didn’t even have the keys she had safely in her bosom. Hunith steeled herself and ran down the corridor, just in their peripheral. They didn’t even notice her until she was practically top of them.

     She quickly struck them down with two swipes in their surprise, her sword more bloody than before. Hunith looked down at their groaning forms, and tiredly rubbed a hand over her blood flecked cheeks, smearing it even more. Murder, how could her son do it practically every week?

     It used to be every few years, one unlucky soul or two saw her son’s magic whenever they traveled beyond Ealdor. They always, without fail, tried to murder her and her son both in their hatred. However, the fact that both of them were still alive to this day, was all one needed to know about those unlucky souls’ fates.

     “Hunith!” Elyan said in surprise, everyone else looked similarly gobsmacked.

     “Don’t look at me like that, when you live all alone in a village that gets regular threats of bandits and raids. You must pick up a few things, and especially when Prince Arthur teaches you a few things more!” Hunith smiled as she remembered the prince’s visit a few years ago.

     “ _Arthur_ taught you how to sword fight?” Gwaine asked in awe, “How did that happen? I didn’t even know that Arthur knew Merlin’s mother!”

     The prince coughed weakly in the collective stare from everyone, at least Gwen knew exactly what Hunith was talking about.

     “Question is,” Leon said in amusement, “if Hunith can learn, how come her son cannot?”

     Hunith gave a secret smile as she recalled Merlin’s ranting letters, “You sound very sure of that.” she said mysteriously.

     “You’re hurt!” Gwaine’s father roared, “Again! Did that nasty Lord do that to you?”

     Suddenly the corridor was full of angry shouts as they realized the old Knight was right, her face looked more bruised and bloody than before.

     “Don’t worry about him, I took care of it.” Hunith said quietly, and she stood tall as everyone’s gaze pulled down to the image of her bloodied sword.

     “I’m sure you did.” Lancelot’s mother, Elaine, chuckled, “Like mother like son.”

     Hunith took out the cell’s keys out of her bosom, she was too old for shame nowadays, and unlocked the door. She then picked up the two swords left on the ground by their former wardens, and gave them to Arthur and Gwaine. The rest of the Knights, along with one excited blacksmith, took up the long spears leftovers.

     Hunith kept a firm grip on her sword, and the mothers also took up some spears, but more of a cautionary measure than offensive. All of them as a group ran toward the bowels of the castle, where Merlin and the rest of the guard mysteriously disappeared to.

+++

     Merlin groaned, his head felt like a…..he wasn’t even sure they had a word for it. Pain definitely was one, but his ears screeched and he felt like his eyeballs would pop out of their socket. Lots of painful sensations rolled into one unpleasant experience, and his magic kept attacking the stone wall that was his skin. Oh great, the damned cuffs were back on, then.

     “Merlin!” a shout echoed from beyond his cell, was that….Arthur?

     His eyelids refused to open, and he was too exhausted to even try. Merlin mumbled a hello before falling back into unconsciousness.

+++

     “ _Mer_ lin.” Arthur huffed prattishly, “Wake up!”

     “No.” Merlin murmured as he refused to move, “Eve’ng hurts.”

     “That’s to be expected with two broken ribs, and being kicked over and over, and you even got poked a bit like a pig.” Arthur explained with a grimace.

     “Where’s Mum?” Merlin ignored his injuries, he always did anyways, and tried to open his eyes again but to no avail.

     “Actually they are all fighting right now, and your Mum insisted that I come and help you.” Arthur said in annoyance, “I would help more if I was out there, but _my_ Mother insisted that I do it.”

     The left eyelid finally succumbed to defeat, but the right one was halfway open at least. Merlin squinted as he saw dark blobs beyond his cage, in some weird dance that he didn’t know the steps to. Right, that’s probably them fighting the guards. At least he managed to soften the guards up a little before letting them face his mother.

     Arthur gave a sharp hiss, and Merlin struggled to look at him with his sole eye that refused to be defeated by exhaustion.

     “What is it?” Merlin groaned as he tried to yet again open the other eye.

     “You have some shrapnel embedded in your cheekbone, and I think both of your eyes is severely bruised.” Arthur gently brushed some hair off his forehead, “I think your left one looks more worse off, that’s why you can’t open it to my guess.”

     “Being a…” Merlin coughed and then winced as his ribs screamed in protest, “punching bag sucks.”

     “I don’t know how but you managed to kill the captain and a handful of other soldiers.” Arthur said disbelievingly, “Perhaps you fell on them with your clumsiness.”

     Merlin chuckled, “Perhaps.”

     “Merlin, stay with me.” Arthur commanded a bit desperately as Merlin’s eyes drooped, “Don’t you want to hear about what I learned?”

     “What?” Merlin humored him, his right eye still bravely staying open.

     “Gwaine’s father was a Knight!” Arthur said in awe, “Did you know that?”

     Merlin was far too pained to lie at this point, “Yes, Gwaine hated nobles and he didn’t want to be one after his father was killed by one.”

     Merlin didn’t even need his eyes to know that Arthur was looking at him in a way that meant the prince was reevaluating his assumptions.

     “So, looks like you _can_ keep secrets.” Arthur scoffed, “A miracle considering how much of a bad liar you are.”

     Merlin mumbled an agreement and felt that sleep was a good thing right now.

     “Oi, I’m not finished just yet!” Arthur screeched, causing Merlin’s headache to grow two sizes, “Apparently Lancelot’s mother thinks you’re a bad influence and _approves_.”

     “What?” Merlin said dumbly, bad influence?

     “I bet it’s because of all of those trips to the tavern.” Arthur said, “God knows what you two do in there.”

     “Saving Camelot, dollop head.” Merlin mumbled, and Arthur laughed quietly.

     “Saving them from a mead excess, more like.” Arthur corrected, and Merlin felt lighter for some reason, “You’re corrupting my knights, I mean I expected that from Gwaine, but not you too!”

     “What _are_ you doing anyways?” Merlin asked curiously, narrowing his eye the best he could without closing it.

     “Oh, only _now_ that you notice it!” Arthur growled and something jangled noisily in his hands, “I’m unlocking all of these chains, idiot!”

     “So that’s why I don’t feel so heavy anymore.” Merlin grumbled, “Can’t you take the cuffs off first, it’s uncomfortable.”

     Understatement of the year.

     “I can’t reach at them!” Arthur grumbled back, “It’s under layers and layers of iron chains, it’s a bit excessive if you ask me.”

     A few moments paused in clinking silence, “So…..what else did you find out, Arthur?”

     “Tom is angry at Elyan, not only for not attending his funeral, but bringing the flowers he hates most to his grave!” Arthur said in disbelief, “Elyan uses the excuse that his father once threatened him if he brought the hated flowers to his grave he would come back and haunt him.”

     “What?”

     “Tom made Gwen promise that she accompany Elyan whenever he visits his grave, apparently Tom hates roses with a burning passion.” Arthur said as he yanked the chains in frustration, and Merlin thought dully that they should’ve insisted Gwen do it instead. She had more nimble fingers and was definitely less thickheaded than Arthur.

     “Why are you telling me this?” Merlin asked as Arthur finally managed to unwrap one layer of chains off.

     “It’ll keep you awake, I think you got a concussion from all of that knocking about.” Arthur explained as he squinted at the full ring of keys to the tiny lock.

     “You didn’t say anything about Leon’s father.” Merlin said as he yawned, the fight behind them was quietening down a bit.

     “He’s a Knight, but I’m starting to think that Leon got his polite demeanor from his mother, the man is loud and sometimes goes on about his tales of conquest if you start him up about it.” Arthur rolled his eyes, “He reminds me too much of Gwaine.”

     “Hey, is my mum and your mum fighting together?” Merlin asked in confusion, his eye might be half open but he couldn’t mistake the two of them fighting together so fluidly.

     “What?” Arthur said and immediately turned around, surely his servant was mistaken. His jaw fell open as he saw Igraine and Hunith fighting back to back, somehow figuring out a unique style between the two of them. Igraine pushing the guards toward Hunith with her spear, and the peasant woman then stabbing them in the leg with her sword. Somehow among the violence and carnage, the two mothers were exchanging stories about their respective children. It was eerily similar to Merlin and Arthur’s banter, but instead of insults, it was anecdotes.

     “Fat as a pig, I’m telling you!” Igraine shouted as she harshly brought the blunt side of her spear directly in a guard’s knee cap.

     “Skinny as a stick, my bird, hasn’t got much fatter at your castle I’m afraid!” Hunith yelled back, “Have half of a mind --grunt-- to talk to the staff!”

     “Lord Almighty.” Arthur put it, in Merlin’s opinion, quite correctly.

     “If you don’t mind, sire, I’m going to pass out the best I can now.” Merlin said hastily, and then shut his eye and pretended to snore loudly. Merlin groaned as Arthur shook him back awake, why couldn’t the prat be merciful and let him escape the scrutiny of two mothers!

     “Oh no you don’t!” Arthur growled menacingly, “I’m on the last layer and then I can get rid of those cuffs!”

     Merlin perked up, “Okay, I’m awake. Get them off!”

     Arthur grumbled some impolite things under his breath as he finally peeled away the last of the iron chains. He fiddled with the keys as to find out which one was for the cuffs, and finally unlocked one in a triumphant shout. Merlin was grateful that the cuffs came off completely shortly after that.

     Merlin breathed in the magic from the earth beneath him, rejuvenating him to the point he could at least move his limbs a bit. He tried to get up on his legs, but if the bursts of pain in his legs was any indication, the angry guards gave him some sore bruising there as well.

     “Arthur, no wait don’t!” Merlin groaned as Arthur pulled him over his shoulders, it was frankly embarrassing every time he did that.

     “I can still walk!” Merlin protested as Arthur heaved him toward the dwindling fight, “My legs aren’t _broken!!!_ ”

     Merlin weakly hit Arthur’s chest with his fists, silently proving Arthur’s point.

     “Shut up, Merlin.” Arthur said in his best _I’m a right prat_ voice, “You just got tortured for information about Camelot, so you are definitely not walking for a while if your legs look purple and black like they are.”

     “Tortured?” Merlin squinted with his good eye.

     “Yes, your mother told us that’s what Lord Behermir was planning to do.” Arthur explained, “He threatened to torture the rest of us to force you into compliance.”

     “Yeah….” Merlin said absently, “That’s exactly what happened.”

     “Don’t say I told you so about Lord Behermir, it was just luck.” Arthur growled as they made their escape with the others trailing behind them. The shouts of the surviving guards in the background as they ran up the many _many_ stairs of the dungeons and out into the castle. Merlin grunted every time he landed hard on Arthur’s shoulders, which wasn’t often since it was well padded. Muscle or fat depending on who you ask.

     “It happens often times enough, my lord, that it doesn’t constitute as luck!” Merlin snarked back, all of them coming to a stop in front of the gates.

     “Then what _does_ it constitute as, then?” Arthur sassed as he lugged Merlin onto the cobblestones, almost gently.

     Almost.

     “Prediction.” Merlin said simply, “Routine, usual, commonplace, our normal. Do you need me to go on sire?”

     “Shut _up._ ” Arthur growled.

     “Don’t say such a rude thing, Arthur!” Igraine reprimanded, “Do you treat all of your servants like that?”

     Merlin grinned smugly up at Arthur, and the prince looked at him murderously.

     “Sorry mother. So, can you _please_ shut up, Merlin?” Arthur said to Merlin, in his best sickly sweet voice he could muster.

     “Sure, of course I can. Whatever you say sir. Shutting up is a favorite hobby that I---” Merlin rambled but was cut off with a slight slap to the back of his head.

     “Merlin, don’t be so disrespectful.” Hunith scolded, “Get up and apologize.”

     The warlock groaned loudly like a petulant child, but managed to stand on his own two feet with help from Arthur (with encouragement from his own mother). Merlin leaned heavily on the prince and said in a quiet sullen voice, “Sorry.”

     “Whatever.” Arthur rolled his eyes.

     The both of them screeched in pain as their respective mother held them by the ear tightly and they were forced to be polite and civil to each other.

     Everyone got to say their final goodbyes to their parents, a chance that wouldn’t have been possible without the spell. Percival was downright bawling as he bent low as he could to hug Dindrane, who said it was one of the happiest days of her life. She had the chance to punch men in the head from her place at Percival’s shoulders during the skirmish, and of course see her son again. Elaine hugged Lancelot tightly as she could, and approved quite loudly of Merlin, but not so fondly of Gwaine. Speaking of Gwaine, he had hidden tears in his eyes as he hugged his father, last seen as a child. Tom hugged both of his children, and said that he was proud of the two of them. Leon’s father simply gave him another head rub and said that his mother was probably glad of the vacation from her husband in the Otherworld.

     Arthur hugged his mother for a very long time, and she whispered to him that they might see each other again. Maybe, if the fates were willing.

     Hunith supported her son by the waist, and Merlin had to bend awkwardly to rest his head on her shoulder but it was well worth it. They didn’t need to speak like the others, but for an ephemeral moment, it felt like the years before Merlin was sent to Camelot. When it was the two of them against the world. They also mourned quietly for Balinor, wherever he was in the Otherworld, Avalon or otherwise.

     They all walked through the gates through a tacit agreement, and the parents faded to morning mist. Hunith smiled weakly as Gwaine offered to accompany her back to Ealdor. Merlin hugged tight as he could, and promised to keep sending money to her every month like he did. The Knights, except one, rode back on the long road to Camelot. They were tired and drained, both physically and emotionally, but nonetheless happy.

     Merlin was just hoping Gaius wouldn’t yell at him again when they got home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> god this was WAAAYYYYYYYY longer than I thought omg
> 
> (a whooping 10.3k wow)
> 
> I am too pooped to say something lengthy here but maybe the next update might be in two weeks
> 
> maybe less (I'm very sure of that, 2 weeks at the latest okay?)
> 
> anyways I hope you like this chapter and how it ended the shapeshifting arc
> 
> he'll still shapeshift in the future, but not with this much frequency or focus on it
> 
> it'll be another nifty ability that he has :p
> 
> kudos & comments are lovely <3


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